The Welshman Book 1
by Hyena Cub
Summary: The year 2075 saw the rise of a tyrant unlike any seen for decades...beyond the memories of almost everyone. A group of young Hogwarts students is pitted against him, and could help to win the war. Or to lose it.
1. First Whispers

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

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Author's note: I am not English born but have attempted to use the correct grammar, punctuation, and spelling. As the story is from the point of view of a British person, i figured it should at least try to sound proper. For any mistakes, do please forgive me! : )

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The story posted here is a work of fanfiction only, and the characters, places, and other copyrighted materials from Harry Potter belong to their respective owners.

The author of these fanfiction claims NO rights to anything taken from Harry Potter. All works are intended solely for entertainment purposes, and no money will be made from this story. Any and all original creations belong to me.

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**CHAPTER 1****: First Whispers**

'_Voldemort was one of the worst Dark wizards in the history of England. His reign of terror spanned three decades, spreading fear, death, and atrocity across the British Isles. Born in a Muggle orphanage in London in the mid-1920s, 'Lord Voldemort' was orphaned when his mother died after childbirth. She lived only long enough to give him his name: Tom Marvolo Riddle. An odd and sadistic child, it could be said he truly began his reign of terror there in that orphanage, where he learned early on he had dark powers that he could control…'_

I stared at that paragraph for some minutes, trying to imagine such an evil man as a child. Of course everyone starts off as a child, but sometimes it wasn't so easy to imagine it, especially with the illustration in the book of a snake-like looking man with no hair and red eyes. I closed the history book and tapped my finger on the cover, trying to imagine what it must have been like, living when that monster was in control of the country. That kind of thing could never happen now, of course…Voldemort had been nearly a century ago.

I was fascinated with the old wars, and Dark magic. Not that I was interested in using it of course, don't get me wrong, but fighting it…now that was different. I'd wanted to be an Auror for as long as I could remember, ever since I learned what an Auror did. My favourite class at Hogwarts was Defence Against the Dark Arts, and it was also my best.

'Calen!' came Mum's voice from downstairs. 'Supper! What're you doing?'

'Homework!' I yelled back. I was, too; I had an essay to do for History of Magic and I had chosen to write about Voldemort. It was too bad, really. I liked history, but couldn't stand the teacher. Cuthbert Binns had been teaching the class for decades, and he was as boring as a pair of old socks, maybe more. Too bad he was a bloody _ghost_ – we'd never be rid of the old goat!

I left my history book on the bed and clattered downstairs, nearly tripping over the hem of my robe. A lot of my friends often wore Muggle clothing during the holidays, and I did too, sometimes. But it could really be uncomfortable; when I didn't want to deal with it, I wore robes.

My parents and my little brothers were all at the table when I got there, and my father cocked an eyebrow at me. 'It's a bit late to finish summer homework, isn't it? Term begins tomorrow.'

I grinned and shrugged. 'So long as it gets done…it won't take long. It's just a foot of parchment on a history subject of choice, so long as we covered it last term. I'm writing about that Voldemort bloke.'

Dad shook his head at me before turning to his meal. 'Still determined to be an Auror, are you?' He didn't like the idea of me being an Auror; he said that Aurors were too likely to die in the line of duty. Mum was a lot more understanding; she worked in Magical Law Enforcement herself.

I shrugged. 'Better than sitting in an office all day,' I said. 'Either an Auror or a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts.' Treasure hunting sounded fun to me!

'Oh, leave the kid alone,' said Mum with a laugh. 'Let him go his own path.' It was a conversation I had heard over and over…Dad had always been a bit of a mother hen…so to speak. I grabbed myself some pork chops and potatoes and began to eat.

'I wanna be one!' said Kieran, my second-youngest brother. 'And a Quidditch player, too.'

'You can't be both, you berk,' I said with a laugh. 'You've got to choose one or the other.'

'I do not!' Kieran hollered. 'And I am not a berk, Mum, he called me a berk!'

'Do not shout at the table!' Mum shouted. She turned to me, looking irritated. 'And don't call your brother a berk.'

I grinned innocently. 'But Mum, you always taught us to tell the truth.'

Killian, the oldest of my baby brothers, had to stifle a giggle, but Mum gave me an evil glare. I held my hands up in surrender. 'Okay, okay…sorry.' But when Mum looked away, I made a horrible face at Kieran, who made one back.

'Well try not to do anything insane this year at school,' said my father. 'No death-defying dives on your broomstick, no mad-bludger wars…just do my heart a favour and try not to risk your life too often? And tell Ke'koa I said the same goes for him!'

I had to laugh. Ke'koa Ilima was my best friend, had been since we were toddlers, and he was even more insane when it came to thrill seeking. 'I'll tell him,' I said. 'And if you hear anything about Hell freezing over, you'll know he listened.' Everyone laughed at that. Mum tried to glare for cussing, and Dad tried not to show he was amused, but I knew better. 'Don't worry…I promise to come home all in one piece.'

'I intend to hold you to that.'

I managed to finish supper without annoying my parents too much more than that, and stood up, stretching. 'Well…reckon I should go finish that essay. It's half done, anyway. Then make sure I have everything for tomorrow.'

'All right,' Dad said. 'And don't forget your scales, this time…make sure they're in your trunk as soon as you get up there.'

I agreed exasperatedly; I only forgot the stupid things once and they never let me forget! Shaking my head at how irritating parents could be, I took the stairs two at a time to get to my bedroom before my parents called out any other bits of parental advice.

As amusing as my family is, I still haven't introduced myself, have I? Guess I should probably do that.

My name is Calen Weasley--yeah, I'm one of the many Weasleys in the United Kingdom. We're probably the biggest wizarding family in all of Europe, for that matter...you should see our family reunions.We need a scorecard just to keep everyone straight. I've got two parents and three little brothers.

My parents apparently like names beginning with a 'k' sound. My father is Cullen, and my mother is Cadence. My name's Calen, my second brother is Killian, my next brother who's eight, is Kieran, and my youngest brother's name is Kian. That last always amused me, because his name means 'ancient', and he's all of three years old.

We live right in the middle of London, in a mostly wizarding neighbourhood. There are a few Muggles on the street, but they're friendly sorts, and actually know about us wizards. Dad says it's lucky the Ministry doesn't know about them. As medieval as most the Muggles were getting lately about things like magic, the Ministry were kind of getting paranoid about secrecy.

I was about to go to Hogwarts for my third year, and hoped to get on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I made reserve last year, and had practiced hard, so I was hopeful about my chances this year. My little brother Killian had been asking me questions the past week about Hogwarts; he was ten that year, and would be attending it next year, and seemed to be trying to get all the information he could before he had to face the dread school; he doesn't do well in crowds, so he was a little nervous about the idea. Maybe more than a little. I hoped Mum and Dad would be able to cool him out a little bit before next year.

The essay didn't take long to finish. There was plenty of information about Voldemort in my history book, and I also had other books with him in it. I even used some information from the Voldemort Famous Dark Witches and Wizards card from my collection. When I finished, I left it to dry on my bed while I checked my trunk. My scales were in there, right where I'd tossed them, and everything else seemed to be in order as well. I crammed in a couple of my favourite books and my poster of the Kenmare Kestrels, then rolled up my essay and crammed it on the top before forcing the lid shut.

I sat on my bed, trying not to yawn, and willing my stomach to settle; it was always like this the night before I went back to school. I knew I would be homesick the first few days as always, and would miss my parents and little brothers. But I loved Hogwarts and its classes and the teachers and the grounds, and the secret passageways. I looked forward to Quidditch and Duelling Club. Little did I know that my school year would be a bit more exciting than I had bargained for.

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Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was as busy as it ever was before a new year at Hogwarts. The train sat idling on its tracks, obscuring everything and everyone in thick, white steam. Cats yowled, owls screeched and hooted, and other sundry animals added their grumbling voices to the din. I imaged the animals never liked 'train day' – all the noise and steam and being shut up in cages all day. I wouldn't like it either, if I was an animal.

The new students jumped up and down in anticipation, or cried at the thought of being away from their parents for the first time in their lives. (I did both the first time I went away to Hogwarts. I was excited, but I knew I would really miss my parents--I guess that never changed.)

I nearly tripped over someone's cat as I headed for the train, my father and my baby brothers at my side. Mum was already at work, unable to get the morning off to see me onto the train, which I wasn't entirely thrilled with, but at least we had Dad with us.

'So why is this "Nine and Three-Quarters"?' asked Killian, looking perplexedly up at the sign above our heads. 'Shouldn't it be 'Nine and One-Half'?'

Dad laughed, and I looked up at the sign too; that had never occurred to me before. Why _was_ it Nine and Three-Quarters? 'I suppose they thought that was a bit too even,' Dad said with a chuckle. 'And "Nine and Three-Quarters" sounds more interesting.'

Killian peered at the sign as if it was erected by a complete madman, but I looked away when a voice called my name.

'Oi, Calen!' it said.

I turned and grinned, recognizing the voice of Ke'koa Ilima, an English-born Hawaiian wizard whose grandparents were from the United States. He was the one Dad had told me to warn against doing anything insanely dangerous; our families had been friends since Dad was a kid, and early on Ke'koa became one of our family, really. He even had a 'k' name. 'Hey! I'll be on the train in a minute, do we have a compartment?'

'We will!' said Ke'koa. 'If we have to kick someone out to get one to ourselves, we'll do it!'

I laughed, shaking my head, and waved him on before turning back to my family. I nodded politely to the conductor that had come to gather my school trunk.

'Bye,' Kian sniffed, attaching himself to my legs. Kian did this every time I went to Hogwarts: attached himself to my leg and wouldn't let go. He wasn't shy, like Killian, but he was an awfully sweet little kid, and I always felt bad leaving him at home.

'Aw,' I said, kneeling down and hugging him. 'It'll be all right. I'll send you guys all kinds of letters while I'm gone! And we can plan what we'll do for the Christmas holiday, okay? Snowball fights and sledding, and tickle torture.'

Kian had begun to smile a little, but at 'tickle torture', he shrieked, laughed, and held his middle. 'No, not that part!'

I winked, letting go and standing up. 'Better be good, then! And you, you mad alek,' I said to Kieran. 'No being a freak.'

Kieran wasn't crying. He stuck out his tongue instead.

'Yeah, I knew it was too much to ask,' I muttered. 'You were born a freak.'

'That goes for you, too, Calen,' said Dad with a smirk. 'I don't want any more owls from Hogwarts about how you painted the Slytherin common room door red.'

I laughed, hugging him one more time…that painting spree had been fun, and if I'd had any gold paint, I would have used it, too. Finally, I backed away from him and grinned. 'Well…see you at Christmas, Dad,' I said.

'Take care, son.'

I hugged my little brothers once more (Killian was now having to fight tears, himself), and turned to the train. A slam told me the conductors were closing the train compartments and I scowled. 'Someday they're gonna leave someone behind! Oi!' I called. 'Wait!'

'Hurry up!' said one of the conductors irritably. 'We can't wait for every lazy sod that can't get on the train on time!'

I gave the man a dirty look, running for one of the front compartments. I slipped in before it was shut, and snuck into the nearest compartment to hang out of the window. A lurch from the train nearly sent me onto the floor, but I caught my balance just in time and stuck my head out of the window. I nearly squished a new first-year as I waved energetically to my dad, who waved back through the steam.

When I couldn't see him anymore, I sighed, ducking back out of the compartment and nodding politely to the first years whose compartment I had invaded. They gave me a strange look; I supposed that being squished by a teenager wasn't normal business for them. They must not have any older siblings.

As the Hogwarts Express began to pick up speed, I began walking down the aisles at a fast walk, peering into the compartments to see where my friends were. I was beginning to think I'd missed them when I caught sight of Ke'koa's grin through one of the glass doors.

Ke'koa had gotten us all a compartment near the end of the train, far from the prefects' carriage. (We didn't like being so near them…it was harder to be obnoxious with those nosy sods so close.) I stepped into the compartment and grinned, closing the door behind me.

Ke'koa was there of course, along with Peter Weasley, one of my cousins – third, I think. There was usually at least one Weasley in Hogwarts at any given time, often more, and he was the only one of us in fourth year. He had red hair, like ninety-five percent of all Weasleys. You think I have a big family, you ought to meet Peter's; he has six big brothers and two little ones. Weasleys have always seemed to have a difficult time producing female offspring…and Peter's family certainly proved that!

Faolan Farson looked up and greeted me tiredly; Faolan was a werewolf, but only our group and the teachers knew about that. I wondered if the full moon was recently; he usually only looked that drained after a recent transformation.

The last of our group was Arcturus Rowle, who was the only Slytherin in our group, but he was a decent sort, not like most the other Slytherins. He didn't fit in so well with his house, and usually ended up getting into duels with them; I suspected he instigated things at times because he liked to duel, but he would never admit it. The other thing about Arcturus was that he was something like one-fourth or one-eighth banshee. This is not something he ever told anyone but his closest friends. I hadn't even known that banshees could procreate with humans—or even at all.

We were a little strange, I guess…even for wizards. But we were all good friends; any one of us would have giving the shirt from our backs to any one of the others without even thinking about it. Ke'koa was probably the most 'normal' one of us, though that's not saying much. I don't count myself. I like Cockroach Clusters.

'Hi,' I said to everyone.

The others greeted me with a 'hi' or a wave or in Ke'koa's case, an 'Aloha'. I'd never heard of a language before where 'hello' and 'goodbye' meant the same thing.

'Where's Killian?' asked Faolan. 'Didn't you say he turned eleven this year?'

I opened my mouth to answer, but Ke'koa beat me to it. 'No, he's only ten. He'll be coming next year.' See? Just like one of the family.

'Wow,' said Faolan, blinking. At first I thought he was referring to my brother only being ten, until he added, 'You sound just like Ke'koa, Calen!'

I laughed, and Ke'koa aimed a rude gesture Faolan's way.

'Hey…did you hear about the latest?' asked Arcturus, his dark eyes bright with excitement or fear, I couldn't tell. He was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet in his hands and he waved it in our direction.

'The latest what?' asked Faolan, peering into a bum bag he wore around his waist, muttering about a Chocolate Frog he swore he had in there that morning.

'The latest death,' said Ke'koa, obviously having heard about it. 'There's been _another_ one.'

Everyone groaned, and Arcturus peered down at his paper, giving us a summary of the front-page article. Seemed that a witch had been found dead in Hogsmeade, in her home, along with her grown son, and her elderly parents.

It wasn't a magical death; that much was certain, as they'd been 'shot', the newspaper said. The wizards and witches who worked for the Muggle Relations section of the Ministry said the deaths were caused by a 'gun'. None of us except for Ke'koa (who was going to take Muggle Studies this year and was interested in their weird devices) really had more than a vague idea what a 'gun' was, except that it somehow killed people; Ke'koa said it put a hole through them. It was a Muggle thing.

'She worked for the Ministry,' said Arcturus over the sound of the train below us, running on the tracks, 'and so did her son and her father. The Aurors think that they might have been killed by someone who didn't like the law they were trying to pass…well I don't guess I blame them for not liking the law. This bint was trying to get the non-human wand law repealed…what a git.'

I remembered reading about that in History. There used to be a time when people who were not at least half human were not allowed to even possess, much less use a wand. About fifty years ago, they'd passed a law allowing non-humans wands for the first time ever.

'I bet it's some weird vigilante,' said Peter. 'You know, crusading for justice. All the deaths have been of people like that…remember that bloke up in Killarney? That Malfoy bloke that was found in July with his throat cut?'

'I remember that,' I said. 'Hyperion Malfoy was the one who wanted to keep Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts, right?'

Peter nodded gravely. 'Aye, and he was getting up a lot of support for it, too.'

'Could it be a Muggle?' asked Faolan with a frown. 'None of these deaths was done by a wand.'

'Could be, I guess,' said Ke'koa. 'Or a wizard trying to make the ministry _think_ it's a Muggle mob.'

We were all silent for a few minutes after that. I dunno what the others were thinking, but I was trying to think of what it was like to be a Muggle…moreover a Muggle who hated wizards so much that I was willing to kill them, just because they were wizards. I didn't understand that any more than I understood the wizards who felt the same about Muggles. Wizard-Muggle relations had been badly strained throughout history, and it was stupid.

Faolan then changed the subject to Quidditch, and I was rather glad. I didn't much like talking about death, and the strange attacks had me kind of jumpy. All of the attacks had been on old, pure-blood families, and the Weasleys were one of the oldest wizarding families in Great Britain. Even the Ministry said that Muggle animosity was beginning to approach the level it was in the Dark Ages, when they burned suspected witches and wizards at the stake. Burning to death couldn't be a very fun way to die. I didn't like the idea that things could be headed that way again.

I wasn't sure what caused the Muggles to start hating us so much…I supposed there had been plenty of wizards who were cruel to Muggles, and enough Muggles who remembered that. But still! Couldn't they tell the difference between evil and not?

I was startled when Arcturus poked me hard in the ribs, and I blinked, turning on him. 'What?'

'Are you ever gonna cut your hair, mate?' he asked, grinning. 'We'll have to start calling you Kaylee instead of Calen!'

Everyone laughed, and I gave Arcturus the V. 'Sod off,' I invited, shaking my head. 'So I like long hair, so what? Some of the greatest wizards in history had hair longer than mine…it's a trait of greatness.' My hair was past the middle of my back, which seemed to be a sign that people had to make clever comments about it on a regular basis. I thought it looked cool, personally, though it did get in the way sometimes.

Arcturus snorted, and Ke'koa made an inarticulate sound of scepticism. 'Some of the worst wizards in the world had long hair, too. Barnabas the Barmy had hair longer than yours because he kept forgetting to cut it.'

Even I had to laugh at that one. 'You're real friends, you are,' I said. 'Besides, Arcturus, that's rich coming from you. Your hair's nearly as long!'

'But mine looks manly.'

I was still defending my hair when the lunch trolley came round, and we broke off the conversation to buy some things to tide us over until the welcoming feast at Hogwarts. She didn't have any Cockroach Clusters, since I doubted anyone but me would ever buy them, but she had Bertie Botts and Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties…I got a couple of each of those, and sat back down to enjoy them as my friends made their own purchases.

It began to rain at about three in the afternoon, the sky darkening and the clouds gathering in ominous clumps. The lamps in the train flared up to light the compartments and the corridors, but the view outside was depressing and dreary. I sighed as lightning flashed across the clouds, trailing thunder in its wake.

'Storms, brilliant!' exclaimed Faolan. He loved it when it rained and thundered and all that…me, I hated it. I hated being all wet and cold, I hated the depressing clouds, I hated the cold wind…. I'd much prefer bright, warm sunshine. Ke'koa agreed with me. I guessed it was his Hawaiian blood…he liked bright, hot weather, too.

'Well, Faolan'll be occupied the whole time,' said Arcturus, amused. He was right, too. Faolan hardly moved for the rest of the trip, watching the lightning and listening to the thunder, even as the rest of us chattered away.

There _was _one thing I hated about Hogwarts, and that was the long train ride there. I mean why couldn't we just use portkeys or the Floo network or something? But, I guess it's tradition, and a train is a lot more convenient for hundreds of kids than some giant portkey. Still, it was easy to resent the train when you were stuck sitting around for hours on end.

When the Hogwarts Express _finally_ began to slow down, the storm was raging full force outside, the rain battering the windows so hard that we could hardly hear ourselves talk. I was gonna get soaking wet just getting myself to the stupid carriages!

'Well then!' said Arcturus, grinning wickedly as he stood up. He put on a stupid, spooky voice. 'Welcome to your doom!'

'Storms aren't doom,' said Faolan as I snorted. 'Don't worry…we'll protect you from the big, bad thunder.'

The rest of us laughed as Faolan and Arcturus got into a roughhousing scuffle, and I ducked out of the compartments so I didn't get stepped on. While Peter told them off for acting like idiots, I slipped out into the corridor.

I'm not sure who won the tussle, but Faolan and Arcturus both seemed a little bedraggled as they joined us and we began to mill out towards the doors.

The rain was cold, the wind was blowing everyone's robes up into their faces, and we were all soaked within two minutes, if not less. Faolan laughed, clearly cheered by the insane weather, and Arcturus cursed as a gust of wind nearly knocked him over. Not that it took much wind to knock him over; he was skinny, and he wore a billowing cloak.

'First years!' called a familiar voice, and I grinned. 'First years, come to me, please!' It was Artemis Fletcher, the groundskeeper. She always took the first years on their boat ride across the lake. 'First year students, this way!'

I raised a hand to her in greeting, but it was raining too hard and she didn't see me. I thought that the first years were going to have a far more interesting trip across the lake than I did, with the wind whipping the water up into a frenzy like it was. I hoped it would be a little calmer next year for my little brother.

'Come on, let's grab a carriage!' called Arcturus. 'Before we drown!'

I didn't argue! The five of us sprinted across the slippery grass outside Hogsmeade Station towards the line of waiting carriages. It wasn't much better in the carriages. We were all soaking wet, the carriage was open so the wind whipped the rain inside, and it smelled damp and musty. I couldn't wait to get up to the castle!

I complained about the storm the entire way there, determined to insult it as much as possible since I couldn't avoid it. Faolan finally threatened to shove me into the nearest mud puddle if I didn't stop insulting his friends. I told him he was barking for making friends with a bloody thunderstorm, and he laughed.

The ride to Hogwarts was not a long one. The carriages rolled themselves over the bumpy ground, splashing up muddy water and adding the creak of axels and wheels to the din of the storm. The musty smell snarled in my nostrils, making me long for the warm, dry Great Hall more and more.

The lights of Hogwarts shone bravely through the storm, like a lighthouse guiding ships at sea to safety. I joined the mass of students sprinting for the shelter of the Entrance Hall, slipping and sliding up the stone steps and through the huge double doors.


	2. The Welcoming Feast

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

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**CHAPTER 2****: The Welcoming Feast**

The Entrance Hall was nice and warm. The torches on the walls gave a cheerful light, and everyone was wringing out their robes and using drying spells on themselves. None of us knew the Quick-Dry spell yet and so we all had to use the slower version. The younger students didn't know any drying spells at all, and had to stick with wringing out their clothes and shaking the water out of their hair as they headed into the Great Hall.

I was struck as always by the sheer…grandeur of the place. That might sound pompous, but it was true, there just wasn't a better word for it. Thousands of candles hung in midair, lighting the vast hall, and the torches on the walls flickered across the polished stone floor and the gleaming wooden house tables. Each table had banners with the house standards over them, adding colour to the earth tones of the Hall, and the enchanted ceiling rose meters above everyone's heads. Even the simulated stormy sky above didn't take away from the magnificence of the place.

A shove from behind took my attention from the décor. 'Move it, Weasley! You're blocking the way!'

I should have known. If there was anyone at Hogwarts I hated more than the Moor twins, I didn't know what it was. Cuthbert and Gideon Moor had to be the biggest gits in the school.

'It's not my fault you're too dim to walk around us, you idiots,' I retorted.

'Oh yeah?' snarled Gideon, taking a step forward and flexing his muscles. They were identical twins, but it was possible to tell them apart, usually. Gideon had more muscles, and he liked to use them.

Not one to back down from a fight, I clenched my fists and stepped forward, myself. 'Yeah!'

Things could have gotten nasty, but Ke'koa got between us all, 'accidentally' knocking into Gideon and apologizing in a completely insincere manner. He didn't look back as he strolled towards the Gryffindor table.

'Watch it,' Gideon snarled, taking another step forward, this time towards Ke'koa, but his brother held him back.

'It's all right. He'll regret it.' Cuthbert glared at Ke'koa's back, but Ke'koa didn't even bother looking around.

'You'll be the ones regretting it, you gits,' I said. 'Just wait 'til Quidditch starts.'

There was no more time for pleasantries then, because by that point we were _all_ blocking the way, and the impatient shoves and complaints from behind moved us all forward. The twins strode off towards the Slytherin table, and Arcturus grinned.

'Don't worry,' he said. 'I'll slip them a little surprise in their beds tonight.'

'Like a lethifold?' said Faolan hopefully, and Arcturus laughed in surprise.

'Sorry, I don't happen to have one of those in my trunk…but I'll think of something. See you guys later, then!' And grinning, he veered off to sit at the Slytherin table.

'A lethifold?' I asked, shaking my head, as we joined Ke'koa at the Gryffindor table.

'Sounded good to me,' said Faolan with a shrug. 'I'm sick of those worthless little bastards.' Faolan wasn't normally quite so vicious, but he was easily hurt, and the Moore twins seemed to like to take advantage of that. I didn't blame Faolan for being resentful.

'C'mon, mate. Forget them, they're not worth spit.' Faolan chuckled a little and agreed.

By the time I sat down at the Gryffindor table, I was just damp, not soaking wet, and much warmer. The house tables were filling up with black-robed Hogwarts students, chattering and talking and arguing and whatnot. I looked up at the staff table, seeing that everyone was there except for Artemis (because she was bringing the first-years across the lake) and Professor Miller had to go and meet the first years at the door. Professor Miller was the Deputy Headmaster and the Muggle Studies teacher.

The Headmaster was a wizard called Victor Ryan, and he was all right, I guess. He was nice enough, seemed to be a decent Headmaster. Boring and strict, but fair. Of course when he gave us all detention for doing something insane I didn't like him as much, but at least he was fair. He gave the Moor twins detention a lot, too.

As soon as everyone was in the Great Hall was full and the doors had been closed, Professor Ryan stood up and looked calmly out at the students. He smiled a little as the students eventually quieted down, but Professor Ryan didn't say anything. Instead he turned around to look at a door set into the wall behind the high table; most everyone else also looked.

The door opened and Professor Miller came through with a gaggle of first-years in tow. I grinned at the looks of terror, awe, and excitement I saw on their faces, sometimes all on the same person. I remembered feeling a little nervous, but mostly just excited. Ke'koa had felt the sae way…we were already friends by that point, as our families knew each other well.

Professor Miller was a very average looking wizard with brown hair and eyes, and a nondescript appearance. So most of the eyes in the Great Hall were not on him, but on the hat in his hands. It was patched, frayed, and looked like it had been through Hell…maybe even literally. It looked like it had been burned at some point in its life. When professor set out a three-legged stool and set the hat on top of it, all eyes were on it. Finally, a ragged rip near the hat's brim opened, and it sang…yes, the hat sang.

A millennium ago,

I was born from cloth and thread.

A man named Godric Gryffindor

Placed me on his head.

He always kept me with him,

For I was his favorite hat,

There's little that I haven't seen,

So just remember that!

I was here when Hogwarts

Was no more than a thought,

Conceived by four great people

Who then began to plot.

'A school,' they said, 'for magic!

'We'll teach the children young,

'And leave behind a legacy

'Of tales to be sung.'

And so they built this castle,

And began their epic quest

For children who had magic skill

And put them to the test.

For Gryffindor, he chose the youths

Whose hearts were brave and pure.

Those whose minds were sharp and keen

Were Ravenclaw's preferred.

Hufflepuff sought out the ones

Who worked hard at their chores

While those of great ambition

Were who Slytherin adored.

And even now, though they're long gone,

Their students they still choose.

They put some brains inside of me

So I could fill their shoes!

So put me on, don't be afraid,

It won't take very long.

I'll have a look and tell you

The house where you belong!

The Great Hall erupted into applause and laughter, because really, how many hats could sing, much less sing in tune? Most the people in the school were fond of the Sorting Hat, which was how kids were separated into their school houses at Hogwarts.

Then the Sorting began. There were all the old wizarding surnames, and the Muggle-borns, who would add their family names to the ever-growing wizarding society. As each of the first years at on the stool and put the hat on his or her head, the hat would shout out the house.

'HUFFLEPUFF!'

'SLYTHERIN!'

'HUFFLEPUFF!

'GRYFFINDOR!'

'RAVENCLAW!'

The Sorting never took too long, even if there was a large crop of first-years. When the last kid was sorted (some girl with the unfortunate surname of Zonko), Professor Miller stood up to take away the stool and the Sorting Hat. As he disappeared through the door behind the staff table, Professor Ryan stood at the podium looking pleased.

'Yes…well done, well done! Well then, a few start of term announcements. First of all, for our new students…and those old students who can't seem to remember they're not new students…the forest at the edge of the grounds is off limits to ALL students.'

I exchanged knowing looks with my friends…for some odd reason we were always in that group of 'old students' that Professor Ryan mentioned each year. What could I say? The Forbidden Forest was way too tempting.

Professor Ryan continued. 'The list of items forbidden at Hogwarts can be found on the office door of the caretaker, Mr. Hummel. It comprises some six hundred items, in alphabetical order. I suggest all new students take a good look if they think they might have something on that list. And yes, Mr. Hummel has it memorized, in case anyone wondered.'

Professor Ryan looked over to Hummel, who was sitting at the end of the table. Hummel was a weird one, he was. He was a competent enough wizard but seemed to like being caretaker, cleaning the castle and catching rule-breakers. Mr. Hummel waved amiably to the students.

'And so, for now…tuck in!' As the Headmaster spoke, the empty dishes and platters on the tables suddenly filled with food, and the first-years exclaimed in awe.

You never really got tired of Hogwarts feasts…at least I never did. There always seemed to be all my favourite foods, and plenty of it. It was a wonder we didn't all get fat after the first year!

Ke'koa was talking about the Creaothceann team and whether they'd cream Slytherin this year. (Slytherin won the Creaothceann Cup last year.) Creaothceann was a sport that had been banned for several centuries, but was recently re-legalised with several significant modifications. The original sport had involved players with cauldrons strapped to their heads, flying beneath falling boulders, trying to catch them. So many people died in that sport that it was outlawed. I think they brought it back fifty years or so ago, and it's become very popular. Not as popular as Quidditch, but what is?

And, of course, Ke'koa had tried out for it right away. He got into the Gryffindor team last year, when I had only made reserve for Quidditch. Lucky sod! Well this was my year…I fully intended to make the team proper.

Faolan told Ke'koa he was insane, which Ke'koa didn't deny. 'Duelling Club is just as exciting, and not as lethal,' he said. This was a debate they got into every year, so I was used to it by now.

'Quidditch tops them all,' I interjected through a mouthful of chicken.

Ke'koa gave me a look of disgust. 'What a pig!'

I swallowed my mouthful and gave him a wounded look. 'What?'

'You know what – that's just revolting. Why not just save time and vomit it all up onto the table for us to see?'

'Ew!' exclaimed one of the girls nearby, Ke'koa's indignation having caught her attention. It was Kelly Breen, one of the girls in our year. 'Gross…why are you talking about vomiting at supper?'

'Because he's being a prude,' I said with a laugh. Kelly gave me an odd look, probably wondering why a prude would be talking about vomiting. Next to me, Faolan was shaking with silent laughter, and Peter was looking at us as if we were idiots. He was probably right.

'You know,' said Faolan, prodding his shepherd's pie. 'You know what this sort of looks like, don't you?' It greatly amused Faolan to compare the current meal to various odd, often disgusting things, to the dismay of most of the girls…and Ke'koa.

Ke'koa hastily put his hands against his ears, giving Faolan a dirty look. Ke'koa could dive at seventy miles per hour on his broomstick or go into the forest seeking acromantulas, but he had a weak stomach. So when Faolan began talking about what the various parts of our meals looked like, Ke'koa usually protested. 'No, I don't want to know, you prat!'

I started laughing, thinking it was just as well that Ke'koa wasn't listening. Even I was rather disgusted by Faolan's comparison. I was pretty sure Faolan had never seen troll vomit, but it didn't stop him comparing his shepherd's pie to it.

'It's just lucky I have a healthy appetite,' said Peter, looking mildly revolted. He poked Ke'koa in the arm. 'It's safe!' he said loudly.

Ke'koa shook his head in disgust as he ate his dinner, and I noticed he didn't have any shepherd's pie.

Finally, after the puddings had been eaten and cleared away, and people were looking stupid with contentment, Professor Ryan stood up and called for attention. 'Well then!' he called. 'Now that we are well fed, I believe it's time for bed. As always, your Heads of House will be passing out timetables tomorrow at breakfast!'

The Great Hall filled with murmurs and footfalls as people started off towards their common rooms. Ke'koa was explaining about something called 'layzers' to Faolan that he'd learned about in his new Muggle Studies book, and Peter was directing one of the new first years towards the prefect who was leading them out of the Hall. I caught sight of Arcturus heading our way, ducking in between two of his Housemates to join us.

'You just ought to hear the Moor twins,' he snorted as he joined us. 'They reckon they've got all these strange murders solved.'

Ke'koa was distracted from his explanation of 'layzers' by this outrageous claim. 'What? You've got to be kidding. What do they say's the cause?'

'Well they're not about to tell me, are they?' said Arcturus with a laugh. 'When I told them to prove it, they said I'm not worthy to know.'

Peter laughed, looking disgusted. 'Idiots,' he said quietly. 'Of course they won't tell you; they don't know. I suppose their friends all believe them?'

'Of course. But then their friends aren't much brighter than they are. And that's saying something. Still….' Arcturus peered at the crowd of Slytherins heading down into the dungeons with a critical eye. 'They did seem to know…or at least _think_ they know something about it all. I might have to haul out the ol' ear.'

The 'ol' ear' was Arcturus's Extendable Ear. We all had one, they were great for listening in on conversations. 'Let us know what you find out,' said Peter interestedly. 'It'd be kinda scary to find out their parents were involved or something like that.'

It was possible. Everyone knew the Moors had a long history of Dark magic usage, and the twins' mother had even attended Durmstrang, a wizarding school in Germany known for their emphasis on the Dark arts. In fact the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. What if the Moors _were_ involved somehow? I tended to err on the side of belief when it came to things like mysteries and adventures. Peter says I'm naïve, and Arcturus is a little less forgiving and calls me gullible…I suppose they're right, but in this case I could tell my friends were thinking the same way I was.

Besides, I would just LOVE to see those two prats thrown out of Hogwarts for involvement with the Dark arts!

When we got out into the Entrance Hall, Arcturus split off from us again to go downstairs to the dungeons, waving good-bye to us. 'I'll talk to you in a minute!' he called as he disappeared among the other Slytherins.

'As always!' I called back. Arcturus and Ke'koa had two-way mirrors that Peter had attuned to one another so that we could talk to each other when we had to be in our common rooms. Arcturus would seclude himself in the boys' dorms, since the other Slytherins usually stayed out in the common room for a while before turning in, and we'd get out Ke'koa's mirror and we'd be able to talk with him. Ke'koa said he thought there was a way to actually send small items through the mirrors, but he hadn't figured out how to do it yet.

'You did bring them, right?' I asked Ke'koa. 'It, I mean. Your mirror.'

'But of course!' said Ke'koa with a really horrible French accent. 'You beeleef I could forget such a zing?'

Faolan cracked up laughing. 'You sound Russian,' he said. 'Or Trollish. One of the two.'

'Troll! No way do I sound like a troll, you--' Ke'koa took off after Faolan, who broke into a sprint, laughing. They both ignored an irate prefect telling them to slow down, and chased up the stairs. Peter and I exchanged a shrug and trotted after them.

They beat us up there, and by the time we got to the Fat Lady portrait, they were both out of breath, and Faolan looked as if he'd been rather badly noogied. His blond hair was standing up in a corkscrew on top. 'Nice hair,' I said, nodding my head towards the unique style.

Faolan felt the top of his head and made an irritated face as he began smoothing it out. 'Thank your friend, here,' he said, jerking a thumb at Ke'koa.'

'I don't suppose that anyone knows the new password yet?' puffed Peter, leaning against the wall. He was more out of breath than Faolan and Ke'koa, who had run all the way up here at a dead sprint.

'It's Alpha Orionis,' said a voice behind us; it was the prefect Faolan and Ke'koa had annoyed on the way up. The Fat Lady obligingly opened the portrait doorway as the prefect glared at us all. 'I ought to dock you lot some points for acting like a pack of baboons, I swear.'

'You shouldn't swear,' I said seriously. 'You couldn't get in trouble. Besides, it's not against the rules to act like primates, is it?'

Faolan., Peter, and Ke'koa all stifled snickers, and the prefect rolled his eyes in exasperation and brushed past us, through the portrait hole. Ginning, I followed. I suppose we were lucky the prefect didn't make good his threat…we didn't always get away with out childish behaviour so lightly.

We spent some time in the common room catching up with our friends, and the news of the summer, before the four of us disappeared into the third-year dorms. (Peter came with us because he was the only fourth-year, and it would have been silly to meet in his dorm.) I used an Engorgement Charm to enlarge my bed enough that we could all sprawl on it without being cramped, and Ke'koa got out his two-way mirror. He looked into it, grinning at his reflection, and said, 'Arcturus Rowle.'

Arcturus's dark face appeared in the mirror, smirking as usual. 'It's about time!'

'Well you know,' said Ke'koa, 'I wanted to put it off as long as possible.'

The rest of us laughed as Arcturus called Ke'koa a word I wasn't sure I'd ever heard before. That only made me laugh even more. 'So did the Git Twins say anything else about those killings?' I asked.

Arcturus snorted. 'No. They just went right from that to bragging about how they're going to kill Gryffindor in Quidditch.'

'Ha!' I snorted. 'No way! Just because they got on the team last year…their captain's not exactly fair. But I'll get on the team this year, I know it. They've lost both beaters because they graduated—that gives me a good shot, and I've been practicing like crazy.'

'Gideon reckons all he needs is one shot of the Bludger to send you to the hospital wing for the entire term.'

I felt a rush of irritation at that…Gideon was such a miserable idiot. I didn't know egos could get that big and stay intact. 'Yeah, well tell him he can bring it on. I'm surprised he knows what a bludger's for – their captain probably has to give him a demonstration every year.'

Everyone cracked up, Ke'koa rolling around on the bed. 'Yeah,' chimed in Faolan. 'He probably has to make a little diagram…with pictures not words…saying 'This is a Bludger. This is a bat. You hit the Bludger with the bat.' But he couldn't finish his explanation of Gideon-level Quidditch instructions; he was laughing too hard.

Once we'd all managed to calm down, Arcturus told us that he was gonna use his Extendable Ear that night while pretending to sleep…see if the twins talked about anything of interest. After that, we talked mostly about Quidditch and Creaothceann, and who was going to win what. Ke'koa was looking forward to Creaothceann practice…it was his favourite part of school. I like taking risks and all, but catching heavy rocks with my head I draw the line at. He always came back from practice with cuts and bruises and looking like he'd just gotten into a fistfight with a troll…our school nurse hated the Creaothceann players.

As the others talked, I went about decorating my area of the dorms. I put up my Kenmare Kestrels poster, where they took up their accustomed places, demonstrating the Hawkshead Attacking Formation…one of my favourites. I wasn't a Chaser, but sometimes I convinced the captain to let me play Chaser in practice just because they had so many cool moves.

When Arcturus finally said goodnight, Ke'koa put away his mirror and put up some pictures of his own. He of course had a poster of a Creaothceann team…the something-or-other Bashers, I thought they might be. Peter called him weird and headed for his own dormitory. I agreed with him.

By the time the other third-year boys came into the dorms, my bed was the normal size again, and all my stuff was in drawers and on my bed or on the walls. Tired as I always was on the first day at Hogwarts, I was not long in falling asleep.


	3. The Missing Professor

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 3****: The Missing Professor**

The next morning, I woke to the sensation of something slimy on my face and jerked away in alarm, my stomach lurching as I nearly fell out of bed. Then a very familiar snickering made it through my sleep-fogged brain and I opened my eyes to see Ke'koa standing there, grinning, holding some fake slime in his hands. I hollered in outrage, waking all the other third-year boys abruptly, as Ke'koa laughed and ran out of the room. He was already dressed, the miserable little git!

Faolan looked less than awake, which was pretty normal for him – he never woke easily, and was less than a morning person. He always had energy-potion vials with him to put in his pumpkin juice…he says caffeine like a really strong cup of coffee, but without the rancid-chocolate taste.

The other boys were grumbling as they sometimes do when one of our gang gets obnoxious, and I finally began to laugh and plan my revenge. I tossed my pyjamas on my bed and got into my uniform, loosely fastening my tie…how I hated ties and usually didn't wear mine if I thought I could get away with it.

Eventually the lot of us got down to the Great Hall without too much carnage, and sat at the Gryffindor table. I looked, but didn't see Arcturus as we sat down and figured he was sleeping late. He was easy to wake, more than Faolan anyway, but he still liked to sleep late.

Breakfast was good as usual…not so grand as the special feasts, but delicious all the same. I had a large plate of eggs and sausages, along with a small stack of toast. Faolan didn't say much until he'd had his caffeine potion, and Ke'koa chattered happily away about his classes.

This year we all had our new classes; we all had Divination just because it sounded weird and fun. Ke'koa had taken Muggle Studies, Faolan took Study of Ancient Runes, and Arcturus and I both took Care of Magical Creatures. Peter had begun Runes and Magical Creatures last year, and loved them both. Every one of us had avoided Arithmancy like dragon pox.

As we were eating, Professor Blake began going up the table, talking to the Gryffindors and handing them their timetables. He spent a bit more time with the first years, assumedly telling them how to find their first classes and making sure they were settling in all right. I liked Professor Blake a lot; he was one of my favourite teachers. He taught Defence Against the Dark Arts, and was head of Gryffindor House. Besides being a fair teacher and a wicked dueller, Professor Blake was nice…you could just go up and talk to him. None of that 'I'm the teacher you're the student' rubbish…he was just an all around good person.

Also one of the most noticeable. He had white hair, though he was a young man. He had near-white skin, and get this…he had _pink_ eyes. One of his eyes was crossed, but they still looked cool. The first time I saw him, when I was in first year, I thought he'd done that on purpose with magic, but I since learned what made him look that way; he was an albino. I'd heard the term before but never really knew what that meant.

He got mocked a lot behind his back by some of the students…people like the Moor twins. But most the Gryffindors never put up with that. We all liked and respected him.

'So, master Ilima,' said Professor Blake as he reached Ke'koa. He adjusted the monocle he often wore as he peered at the timetable. 'Muggle Studies, is it? A fine choice! Too many wizards don't understand Muggles. It's a shame, really.'

'Well, they're weird,' said Ke'koa frankly as he looked over his timetable, and Professor Blake laughed. 'They do weird things…I think they have different brains.'

'To those who have met very few of them, I suppose that seems true,' Blake said. 'But to those of us with Muggle parents, they're not so strange. You get used to them.' He winked at Ke'koa who actually blushed, his dark face getting even darker. I have never seen him blush before, but then he'd never put his foot quite so far into his big mouth before.

I had to stifle a snicker, while Faolan looked like he was about to have a stroke not laughing. I hadn't known Professor Blake was Muggle-born, either, true, but I hadn't called them weird, either. Blake was cool, though; he wasn't offended. If anything, he was amused, especially since Ke'koa was slowly letting himself sink beneath the table.

I grinned at Professor Blake as he came over with my timetable and handed it to me. 'Thanks, sir,' I said. 'You have a good holiday?'

'I did, as a matter of fact,' said Professor Blake, adjusting his glasses a little more comfortably on his face. 'I holidayed in Venice for two weeks. My wife loved it.'

'Bet it was warmer there than it was here,' said Faolan. It had been a bit of a cool summer, even for England.

'It was indeed,' said Blake, handing Faolan his timetable. 'We went to the wizarding zoo there and saw a lethifold…my wife nearly fainted at the sight of it, but I thought it was interesting.'

'Lucky,' I said. 'I want to see one!'

Professor Blake grinned as he moved on. 'Perhaps in Care of Magical Creatures,' he suggested. 'If you do meet one let me know, I wouldn't mind meeting it myself.'

'Sure,' I said with a laugh, looking over my classes. In fact my first class _was_ Care of Magical Creatures.

All of a sudden, someone grabbed my sides from behind, right where I was ticklish, making me give a startled yell and jump about a foot off the bench. As my friends cracked up laughing, I spun awkwardly around in my seat to see Arcturus standing there with a stupid grin on his face. I called him a word that would have gotten me detention had Professor Blake heard it.

'Is that how you greet a friend?' said Arcturus in tones of great injury. 'A brother? A comrade?'

'When they scare the hell out of me, yes!'

'I thought you Gryffindors were supposed to be brave,' said Arcturus, sitting down next to Faolan and helping himself to a plate of food.

Ke'koa spoke up in my defence. 'Well, the Sorting Hat's over a thousand years old. It's about time it made a mistake.'

'Thanks,' I muttered. There were sometimes when I wanted to toss _all_ my friends out the window!

'Aw, they're just being their normal jackass selves,' said Faolan, slinging an arm around my shoulders and giving them a squeeze. I gave him an appreciative smile…Ke'koa and Arcturus could sometimes go a little overboard when it came to teasing, but Faolan was a lot more sensitive. Probably the only one more so was my cousin Peter.

'Yeah,' said Peter. 'They don't mean anything. And they'll apologize, I'm sure.' It sounded like a casual comment, but I knew Peter well enough to know that it was an out and out order. When he was defending his friends or family, you didn't mess with him! Not even if you were friend or family yourself.

'Thanks,' I said quietly to them, taking a sip of my pumpkin juice.

I glanced over at Ke'koa, who gave me a subtle look…we knew each other so well that the slightest look spoke volumes to us. He was sorry and would apologize later.

Arcturus held up his hands in surrender. 'All right, all right…no need to get violent or anything,' he said. 'Sorry, Calen. You know I just wanted an excuse to put my hands on your body.'

I choked on my juice, grabbing a napkin and covering my mouth as I let a surprised bray of laughter. Faolan smacked a hand to his forehead, Ke'koa was in hysterics, and Peter looked at us as if we'd all sprouted an extra head or two.

'I'm so flattered,' I managed to say after I'd calmed a bit.

We got through breakfast without too much more chaos, then separated for our various classes. Arcturus and I made our way through the throngs of students heading for the first class of the year, and slipped out of the double doors that led onto the grounds.

'Did you ever leave the Moor twins a surprise in their beds?' I asked.

Arcturus gave me an evil grin. 'Not yet…but I will. As soon as I figure out something suitable. So…what's the teacher's name again?'

'Er…Forrester,' I said, looking down at my parchment. 'Professor Forrester. Peter says he's that wild-looking bloke that usually sits next to Professor Blake.'

'Oh, him!' said Arcturus. 'He was new last year, too, wasn't he? I've spoken a couple of times to him and he seems nice enough. He visits Artemis every once in a while, I think they're friends. He uses the paddock outside her cabin for all his outside lessons…and most of them _are_ outside, except in winter.'

'Too bad we don't start things like hippogriffs until fifth year,' I said. 'That's what Peter said, anyway.'

Arcturus made an unidentifiable noise as we made our way out towards Artemis's cabin near the Forbidden Forest. I gazed longingly through the trees on the outskirts of the woods, wishing we could just go in there to have class. Arcturus snorted and dragged me bodily the rest of the way.

Professor Forrester was indeed the 'wild-looking' bloke Peter had mentioned. He had a shock of red hair, yellowish eyes, and darkish skin, as if he spent most of his time outside in the sun. He almost looked like he could be in my family…maybe one of my crazy uncles.

'Well, come on in, come on in,' said Forrester, nodding towards the open paddock gate. 'There's nothing in here that'll hurt you…we save that for later lessons.'

A few people chuckled, including me, but I was rather hopeful…maybe he wasn't just kidding when he said that! 'What're we beginning with, professor?' I asked.

'Well for today, nothing too difficult. We're gonna go over the lesson plan, find out how much you all know about the creatures we'll be studying this year, and go from there. Then we'll meet the subject of our next class.'

Well, my interest was vaguely piqued. Most that stuff sounded like the standard 'first class' stuff, but I was interested in what we'd be meeting. Just so it wasn't a horklump or a flobberworm I'd be fairly happy. Talk about boring!

We all heard the bell signifying the beginning of class from the castle itself, sounding like the chiming of a grandfather clock. I looked around me; we had the class with the Slytherins, obviously, since Arcturus and I had it at the same time. Five Slytherin third-years had taken Care of Magical Creatures, three of them boys. All of them were looking at us belligerently, the Moor twins looking particularly nasty.

Arcturus, used to this treatment by his housemates, made a point of ignoring them as if they were beneath his notice. He spent most of his free time with us Gryffindors, so he got a lot of grief from the other Slytherins, who considered this behaviour nothing less than traitorous. How stupid could you get? Granted Arcturus got the cold shoulder from a fair few Gryffindors, too, but no one in our year. The other third-years knew him well enough.

I didn't have much time to dwell on the Slytherins' enmity. Professor Forrester got everyone's attention by blowing into some kind of giant horn, the hollow blast stopping the chatter short. Rory Brennan, a boy in our year in Gryffindor, jumped, and one of the Slytherin girls gave a little startled squeak.

'That's better,' said Forrester mildly as all eyes turned to him. 'Now, if you could all have a seat and open your books, we're going to have a brief review of the chapters we'll cover this year.'

Forrester was kind of weird, but I decided I liked the man. As he talked to us about knarls and krups and billywigs, it was clear he knew what he was doing, and he seemed to be fair. I supposed one day wasn't enough to know that for sure, but the first impression was a good one.

I was one of the few people who knew that krup owners who lived in Muggle areas were legally obliged to remove the animal's forked tail with a painless severing charm, so the Muggles didn't realize it was a magical creature. (They looked like normal dogs without the tail.) I thought it was a crap law, personally, thinking it was cruel to cut something off an animal, no matter how painless, but the ministry wasn't always concerned with whether their laws were cruel or not.

The subject of our next lesson turned out to be a knarl, which looked like a normal hedgehog to me. Professor Forrester proved differently when he offered the creature a carrot, which it surprisingly turned its nose up at, instead letting a strange little growl and proceeding to tear around the yard, tearing up the grass and digging at the dirt. A few kids giggled, and I blinked at it, wondering if it was mad.

'Knarls are always a good beginning animal,' said Forrester. 'Strange beasts, knarls. Your homework for today is to research knarls and be able to tell me next class why he's behaving like he is.'

Forrester had good timing. As soon as he'd given his assignment, the bell from the castle rang again, signalling the end of class, and everyone got up off the grass, brushing dirt and grass from their robes. Professor Forrester watched everyone began to mill towards the castle, going in ones and twos through the paddock gate. As Arcturus and I went through, I caught sight of Artemis, the groundskeeper, heading towards the cabin with a sack slung over her back. I grinned and waved her way, and she waved back.

'Well, that was okay I guess,' said Arcturus. 'I'm not really all that interested in magical animals…but we're supposed to take two new classes in third year and I had no interest whatsoever in Runes or Arithmancy or Muggle Studies.'

'I like magical creatures okay,' I said. 'I'm just waiting until we can start learning abut the cool ones like hippogriffs and dragons.'

Arcturus laughed. 'Don't hold your breath,' he said. 'I highly doubt they'll ever bring a dragon in here.'

'Maybe…but it would still be cool. Anyway, I have Defence next…you?'

'Transfiguration. Oh joy.' Transfiguration wasn't Arcturus's favourite class, I knew.

I grinned. 'Well try not to turn the teacher into a toad like you did last year.'

Arcturus groaned. 'I thought she was gonna flay me alive…I didn't even do it on purpose! Anyway, see you at lunch!'

I waved, walking with Rory Brennan and Kelly Breen, the only other third year Gryffindors who had taken Magical Creatures. Kelly and Rory were talking about the class, and I asked them why the knarl _had_ acted like it did.

Kelly giggled. 'Knarls are overly suspicious,' she explained as we all went through the double-doors that led into the Entrance Hall. 'It thought Professor Forrester was trying to trap it or poison it or something, do it got all offended and wrecked the yard.' I blinked and she laughed again. 'Sometimes they actually try to attack you…if they're really aggressive.'

Well that was weird! I wasn't sure what to say to that, so I said nothing, and Kelly went back to her conversation with Rory.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was my favourite class, especially the way Professor Blake taught it. He didn't do a whole lot out of the books, teaching us with hands-on work instead, which I immensely preferred! It was hard to just read a book and memorize a bunch of stupid facts. But if I could get in there and do it myself it was a lot easier and a lot more fun.

The Gryffindors had Defence alone, without any other houses. I wasn't sure why some classes were held with one other house and why some were held alone, but they were. My dad said that N.E.W.T. classes are all houses together, since they are generally a lot smaller than normal classes. You can drop classes after you take your O.W.L. exams (or _fail_ the exams, in which case you have no choice) so it makes more sense to put all the houses together.

I met up again with Ke'koa and Faolan (who had both had a free period that morning while we had Care of Magical Creatures), sitting in the front row with them; we always tried to get front-row seats because we liked the class. If we didn't like a class, we'd get back-row seats so we didn't have to pay TOO close attention.

Professor Blake greeted the class with, 'Well! This semester we're going to learn to fight off the creatures you learned to care for last period.' Most of the class laughed at that, appreciating the irony…Peter said that you learn about plenty of dangerous creatures in Care of Magical Creatures, I guessed it made sense that in Defence, you'd learn to fight them.

Our first lesson was on grindylows, which were strange little water demons that liked to grab swimmers and try to drown them. Fortunately their fingers, while strong, are easy to break. It's their defence mechanism, allowing them to escape if need be, and they grow back. When Professor Blake first demonstrated this trait on the specimen he'd brought in for class, most everyone was a bit shocked until he explained it didn't really hurt them, and they grew back in a day or so.

Lunch was a good deal noisier than breakfast had been, since people had classes to talk about. Arcturus was happy because he managed to get through Transfiguration without a mishap, and Peter said that Runes had been good, and I said that Professor Forrester was pretty cool. Kind of weird, but cool.

After lunch, Ke'koa, Faolan, and I had Divination—so we split up once more for class…sometimes it was a pain being in a group with different classes! With Peter being a fourth year, we didn't have _any_ classes with him, and the Gryffindors and Slytherins only had two different classes together…I was very glad for weekends and evenings!

Divination was pretty interesting. It was taught by a witch called Akila MacGilvar, who was dressed in a plain black robe. She said she felt a lot of colors distracted her from receiving the signs she asked for. She didn't really look like a fortune teller…in fact she was the sort of person who just blended into the crowd. Her hair was brown, her face was nondescript, and her mannerisms very generic.

The class itself was in the north tower of the castle, and was filled with small tables and comfortable cushions for seats. The room was filled with cabinets of teacups, shelves of crystal balls, and lots of books. Our first Divination class was on 'tasseomancy'…which was a big, long word for reading tea leaves. MacGilvar was pretty clear on the fact that Divination was imprecise, and that even if a person was able to get the signs, there was always the possibility of misreading them. Practice and understanding of the methods could minimize mistakes, but there was always that margin for error.

As I said, interesting, though I don't think it was for me. I wasn't able to see anything in Ke'koa's teacup except for tea leaves. The only shape I could make up looked like a penis to me, and I wasn't about to say that aloud. Besides, I didn't think that that particular shape was in our book, and if it was, I didn't want to know what it meant!

Our last class of the day was Potions, which was nothing new for any of us. Professor Pender was the teacher for Potions, and he was okay. He was really strict about rules, but he was a fair teacher, and never minded giving you extra help if you needed it. We were set a new potion, a poison antidote, but it wasn't too difficult.

And then, finally, we were free for the day!

Ke'koa, Arcturus, Faolan, and I met with Peter in the Great Hall, where he was sitting at the Gryffindor table listening to a story from one of the girls in his year. Something involving a rogue Venomous Tentacula. I winced; I did not like Venomous Tentaculas. The one that lived in greenhouse three had it in for me – it was always going after me when we had class in that stupid greenhouse.

'Donna doesn't like Tentaculas, either,' said Peter as we approached.

'Well they're evil,' I said matter-of-factly, and the girl laughed.

'You said it,' she agreed.

'Hey…I wonder where Mr. Ryan is,' said Faolan suddenly. I looked up, following his gaze to the staff table, where there was an obvious vacancy in the headmaster's seat.

'Got me,' I said. 'Maybe he's sick or something.'

'But what could he possibly have that Mr Jacey couldn't handle?' Faolan asked. Mr Jacey was the school nurse…though he didn't like much being called 'nurse'. He didn't like 'matron', either, preferring 'Healer'.

I shrugged. 'Or maybe he's taking a nap, or he's got business, or he's doing paperwork…I dunno.' I wasn't really worried about it…I couldn't care less what Professor Ryan was doing that was keeping him from supper; it wasn't really my business.

But Faolan was way too curious for his own good; had been ever since I first met him. He was probably born that way. 'It's bugging me,' he said, frowning up at the high table. 'He never misses meals…you know him. He doesn't like going off his schedule.'

'So go up to his office if you wanna know that badly,' suggested Ke'koa.

'Not a bad idea….' Faolan finally tore his eyes off the staff table and back to his food, which he ate without seeming to taste it. I knew what that meant! He was bound and determined to find out something that had piqued his interest. I supposed it was a bit odd, but I wasn't exactly going to lose any sleep over it.

'I swear,' I said to Faolan. 'Your curiosity is going to get you in trouble. Curiosity and the cat, and all that.'

'Good thing I'm not a cat, huh?' said Faolan with a grin. Then, very quietly, he added, 'Wolves are so much cleverer.'

I had to laugh…how could I argue?

When Faolan didn't join us out on the grounds after supper, I knew he was snooping around after his mystery. I lounged around on the grass being lazy, while Peter went over some homework for his Runes class, and Arcturus worked on climbing a nearby tree. (Climbing trees wasn't easy with robes on.) Ke'koa was out in the middle of the lake, the crazy idiot, looking for the giant squid. Ke'koa and that stupid lake squid had an actual friendship, which I just found absolutely bizarre. The squid would randomly grab Ke'koa by the ankle and drop him into the lake, or Ke'koa would skip rocks into the lake purely to annoy it. It was like they were brothers.

As I investigated my pockets for a leftover Chocolate Frog I was sure I had in there somewhere, I was startled by a yell from Ke'koa. But it was only his old friend the squid, grabbing his leg…apparently Ke'koa had found the thing. 'Nutter!' I yelled as I finally found a Frog in my right trouser pocket. I unwrapped it as I watched Ke'koa wrestle with the giant squid, thinking that I really should rethink my evaluation of Ke'koa as being the most normal one in our group.

'Who is it?' asked Peter, glancing over at my Chocolate Frog.

I looked down at it, hoping rather that it would be Gellert Grindelwald. I was only missing about ten of the Dark wizard series, and Gellert was the most common of them…I had hopes of finding him soon. But no, it was someone I already had two of. 'It's Lorcan,' I said. 'The Welshman; I have him already.'

Peter's expression lit up and he said, 'Oh, could I have him then? I haven't got him yet.'

'Sure.' I handed the Welshman over and watched as Peter read the card's information. The Welshman had gained himself quite a reputation among wizards in Britain. He worked in the Muggle Relations department of the Ministry, and was making history as being the first wizard in centuries to try and mend the rift between the Muggle and the Wizarding world.

I glanced over Peter's shoulder to read the card: Lorcan Fallyn Llywarch – you can see why no one called him by his right name; no one knew how to spell it, and hardly anyone could pronounce it.

_Lorcan Fallyn Llywarch, known as the Welshman by most, is known for his work in Muggle Relations, his work gaining both praise and criticism in equal parts. His Ministry-backed attempts to begin closing the rift between our worlds has gained him worldwide fame. A native of Wales and Muggle-born himself, he says that he feels it is time for humankind to be one once more._

A sudden panting noise startled me out of my thoughts, and I laughed to see a soaking wet, very bedraggled looking Ke'koa heading my way from out of the lake. 'That was fun!' he exclaimed.

'You're just weird,' I said as Peter hastily moved his homework away from our soggy friend. Ke'koa was dripping water all over the place.

'But you love me anyway,' said Ke'koa. He grinned and lunged for me, giving me a huge bear hug before I could get out of the way; his sodden robes enfolded me, getting cold water soaked into my clothes, and I protested loudly.

Ke'koa took off, cackling, and I chased the miserable brat all over the grounds before tackling him. It got me even wetter, though, so I didn't really count it as a victory. By the time we both came back to where Peter and Arcturus were, I was almost as wet as Ke'koa was.

'That was the most amusing thing I've seen all week,' said Arcturus with a grin.

'I'm sure,' I said with a laugh. I glanced up at the sky, which was beginning to get dark. 'I guess we should get in…it's probably close to curfew.'

'Faolan never did come back, either,' said Arcturus, frowning a little. 'Hope he didn't get caught snooping. Adults don't like to find out they've been spied on.'

'Yeah, he probably got detention or something,' said Ke'koa as we headed back up towards Hogwarts. I hoped not…Faolan was one of the nicest people I'd ever met, and when he got in trouble, more often than not, he hadn't really meant to cause trouble. He just sorta fell into it.

We said goodbye to Arcturus at the stairs that led to the dungeons, and made our way up the million stairs we had to climb to get to Gryffindor Tower. I was a little surprised to find that Faolan was there in the dorms, waiting for us.

'What's wrong?' asked Peter concernedly, the first to notice that Faolan looked a little worried.

Faolan looked up, frowning, his hand working distractedly through his sand-blond hair. 'The teachers don't know where Professor Ryan is. He just…disappeared.'


	4. Quidditch Trials

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 4: Quidditch Trials**

Peter, Ke'koa, and I just stared at Faolan for a minute after this very disturbing revelation. 'What do you mean, he just disappeared?' said Ke'koa, walking slowly to his bunk and beginning to strip off his sodden robes. 'Did he leave, or what?'

'Hold on,' I said suddenly, running over to Ke'koa's trunk, throwing it open, and grabbing up his mirror. Ke'koa watched me mildly as he got on some dry pajamas; he was used to me rummaging in his things, as he did the same with mine.

I took the mirror in my hands and said, 'Arcturus Rowle.' It took a few moments, but Arcturus's face finally showed.

'What's up?' he said. I quickly explained what Faolan had found out: that the Headmaster had disappeared, and Arcturus's face peered bewilderedly at me from the mirror. 'Disappeared? Professor Ryan? How?'

'None of the teachers know,' said Faolan, his eyes wide with intrigue, and I moved aside so Arcturus could see him. 'It's kind of creepy, actually. I've been listening to the teachers all over the castle for the last two hours. The last anyone saw of him was right after Divination. Professor Forrester was telling Professor Shannon that he looked distracted. Like he wasn't sure where he was going.'

'You don't think he's sick do you?' asked Peter worriedly. 'Or hurt, somehow?'

Faolan shook his head in bemusement. 'Dunno. No one's seen him since. Professor Miller – he teaches Muggle Studies - went up and looked for him in the Headmaster's office, but he wasn't there, and none of the portraits know where he went.'

'That's not normal!' said Arcturus. 'Teachers don't just leave Hogwarts without telling anyone do they? I mean…I'm sure they have business elsewhere sometimes…and Professor Ryan was in the Wizengamot, wasn't he?'

'I think so,' said Faolan.

'But if no one knows where he is…. I suppose Professor Miller's taken over for now? As Deputy Headmaster?'

'I guess,' said Faolan. 'It's not like they had it all planned out. I'm gonna try and get some more information, see if I can learn anything more.'

'This is just getting weird,' said Arcturus. 'If anyone else disappears, I'm moving to France.'

We all laughed, breaking the tension that had started to build, and Peter said that he'd rather move to Italy. 'The French talk too weird,' he said, which made me laugh even more. He had a point…I didn't like the French language either, because I couldn't learn it. It was too weird.

'I think it's a cool sounding language,' said Ke'koa.

'Well it is,' agreed Peter. 'But it's still weird.' From there we got into a conversation of various languages, and which ones we liked best, and if we all had to leave England ever, where we'd want to move. Professor Ryan was forgotten for the night…but we weren't able to forget it for long.

The next morning, Professor Ryan still wasn't at the staff table, and the teachers looked worried and tense. Students were beginning to talk about it, whispering to each other about what might have happened to him, and why he'd left without telling everyone.

By lunchtime, the theories were beginning to get really strange. Kento Kellerman, one of the older Gryffindor students, was convinced that he'd been kidnapped by goblins for debts he owed them, because who else but a powerful goblin could get past all the safeguards that were on the Hogwarts grounds?

Zephyr Lovegood, whose family has run the tabloid Quibbler for generations, said that either aliens had zapped him away, or the heliotropes had gone running amok and he'd had to flee from their wrath. Not many people took much stock in either of those theories, especially since there was no such thing as a heliotrope.

But hardly anyone argued that there _was_ something weird going on. Arcturus asked Professor Melville, the witch who was head of his house, where the Headmaster had gone, and gotten a 'never you mind' in return. Ke'koa got much the same from Professor Miller in Muggle Studies, and when I found Professor Blake, the Head of Gryffindor, during break, I asked him the same thing.

He, at least, wasn't such a git about it…another reason why he was my favourite teacher. 'We're not actually sure what happened to Victor – Professor Ryan, that is,' he said quietly. 'We've been trying to get some information on where he might have gone, but most of us have classes to teach, and don't have a lot of time. Artemis has been doing some searching in Hogsmeade, and Wiley, the caretaker, has been also. But we just don't know.'

I frowned, not much liking that answer…and I had thought that the only danger that could possibly befall anyone at Hogwarts had to do with in class disasters and things like random Bludgers. All of a sudden I couldn't help but think back to that History of Magic essay I'd done over the summer about Tom Riddle.

'You'd best get to the greenhouses,' said Professor Blake. 'And keep quiet about this…no need to make a big deal about it just yet… And we don't need people to panic.'

'I will, sir,' I said. 'Thanks.'

Professor Blake smiled wanly, clapped me lightly on the shoulder, and went on his way. I headed outside for Herbology, feeling vaguely uneased and really curious.

I wrote to Dad that night, telling him what had happened and asking him if he or Mum knew anything about it. Mum worked in magical Law Enforcement; I hoped she could at least give me a clue.

The next morning Professor Ryan was still gone…and the next…and the next. None of the teachers seemed to want to talk about it, and from what we could tell, they didn't know any more than we did. I even tried using Divination class to get an answer, figuring that it couldn't hurt, but the only thing I found in my tea leaves that class was tea leaves. (I was more sure than ever that Divination wasn't for me.)

When I got a reply from Mum saying she hadn't heard anything about Ryan, I got fed up with the whole thing and left the investigating to Faolan. He was more determined than ever to solve the mystery, but I had other things that distracted me away from Professor Ryan's disappearance. Like Quidditch.

Quidditch trials were that Saturday, and I was determined to make the team, and couldn't let myself be distracted by strange happenings. Creaothceann tryouts had already been held, and Ke'koa made the team again, to his delight, and I could only hope I did as well.

The captain of the Gryffindor team was a girl named Aldora Hawkins, a sixth-year. She'd been captain since I had come to Hogwarts, when she was in fourth year. I got up early Saturday to get something to eat, trying not feel nervous about the tryout. I'd done it twice already, I should know what I was doing. Still, I wasn't able to eat much…only a little bit of toast.

My friends had also gotten up early to watch my tryouts, and Peter in particular tried to convince me to eat a little more than toast, but there was no way. Finally, as the other students began to fill the great Hall, I stood up and headed towards the pitch.

'Good luck!' called Faolan.

'Yeah, you'll get it this year!' Ke'koa added.

Arcturus's idea of encouragement was a little different. 'We'll be there with Levitation Charms ready…just in case!'

'Thanks a lot, you git!' I called, to general laughter. Shaking my head in irritated amusement (a feeling I would have thought impossible until I met Arcturus) I left the castle.

Thoughts of our missing Headmaster were far from my mind as I walked down to the field where we played our Quidditch matches. All the houses were holding their trials that day and had drawn lots to see who would go first. Gryffindor had drawn second, which meant we were going after Hufflepuff. That was fine with me, it would give me some time to wake up.

'Knew I'd see you out here,' said a boisterous voice as I approached the group of Gryffindors hoping to make it on the team that year.

I looked round and grinned on seeing Aldora, towering over me and grinning. Aldora was definitely a different sort of girl. She ate, slept, and breathed Quidditch. She was about six feet tall at the age of sixteen, and built more like a tank than anything else. But she still managed to look like a girl. She played Chaser.

'Definitely,' I said. 'I feel lucky today. I hope.'

Aldora laughed, clapping me on the back hard enough to make me stagger. Sometimes she didn't know her own strength. 'I've watched you improve hugely over the past two years,' she said. 'You've got a good chance. Trying out for Beater again?'

'Yeah. Chaser would be my second choice, but Beater's just way too fun.'

'You've got a violent streak, kid,' said Aldora, winking, and I snorted. Aldora was one of the few people I would let get away with calling me 'kid'. Aside from the face that she could tie me in a knot if I protested too much, she wasn't condescending when she used the word, so it didn't really bother me. Even if she _was_ only three years older.

As I watched the Hufflepuffs' tryouts, I kind of felt sorry for their captain, a boy whose name I didn't know. He had about thirty first-years trying out for the team, and half of them didn't seem to know which end of the broom went first. (Literally. One boy tried to ride the thing backwards.) I hoped I hadn't been that bad when I tried out as a first year! I considered asking Aldora, but stopped myself…I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.

The sun was shining bright and hot by the time Hufflepuff was finished with their trials; it looked like it was gonna be one of those hot autumn days that seemed like it should be in the middle of August. I clapped politely as the Hufflepuff captain announced those who had made it, and stood up from the grass, ready for my own tryout.

As was her custom, Aldora began the trial by having us fly around the pitch in groups, observing our style and how well we handled the brooms. Once she'd eliminated those who couldn't fly to save their lives, she went on to basic ball handling and maneuvering. I got through the first two rounds easily enough.

The final round had perhaps twenty-five people in it, and was position-specific. Eight people were trying out for Seeker, including last year's Seeker, Evin Quigley.

Aldora at first flung walnuts into the air for them to go after, watching how quickly they flew and how coordinated they were on their brooms. After narrowing them down to four people, she let out the Golden Snitch and told them to catch it. After only five minutes or so of frantic Seeking, the four players darting every which way above, no one was too surprised when Evin Quigley caught the Snitch.

The Chasers and the Keepers both tried out at the same time, the Chasers having to work together in teams and try to score with the Quaffle, and to Keepers trying to defend the goalposts. And then, finally, were the Beaters.

About half a dozen other kids had come to try out for the position, including a first year boy, and a girl. Girls didn't usually try out for Beater, but this one looked like she could handle it well enough. She was only a second-year, but she looked mean.

The seven of us rose into the air for a sort of free-for-all, where we had to chase after the Bludgers and hit them at each other. It was a King-of-the-Hill contest, and the last ones standing had the best chance. Of course Aldora said she wouldn't choose solely on who lasted the longest, but she'd be watching our techniques and skill.

This was always my favorite part of the tryouts. My first year I'd been hit in the head by one of the stupid Bludgers and woke up in the hospital wing with a giant headache. Needless to say I didn't get the position. Last year I'd lasted nearly until the end. But this year….

The Bludgers shot into the air like cannonballs, and everyone tore after them, eager to score the first hit. Everyone but me. My first instinct was to do the same, but I held back, zooming off to the side and keeping a close eye. Bludgers never kept a straight course; they zoomed around trying to unseat everyone and their brother, and I reckoned I'd have a better chance of catching one on the rebound, as it were. And I was right.

Not twenty seconds after the Bludgers were released, one of them came flying at me from above, whistling through the air. I made a quick dodge to my left, my head throbbing with adrenaline, the bat in my hand nearly shaking with a desire to hit the mad ball. My hand shot out, my muscles clenched, and a sound like a pistol shot echoed in the near-empty stands as my bat connected. It jarred me all the way to the shoulder, a feeling as satisfying as the sight of the Bludger soaring away to hit a burly sixth year between the shoulder blades. He growled in pain, spinning around, and I grinned his way. He didn't return the gesture.

I didn't come through the trials unscathed. The second-year girl hit a good one that sent one of the Bludgers into my thigh, nearly sending me crashing off my broom; good gods, that hurt! You don't know pain until you've been hit in that nerve that runs up the thigh by a speeding Bludger. I even went blank for a moment as I veered off towards the stands. I got my revenge, though; I nearly knocked her from her broom a few minutes later. She grinned at me, a trickle of blood running from above her eye, acknowledging my achievement. I grinned back, giving her a sort of salute with my bat before diving back into the tryout.

I was not one of the ones left in the air, to my great frustration. The girl and the burly bloke were the last two to remain on their brooms; I had just taken a Bludger to the shoulder from the boy and was knocked about twenty feet to the ground, my fall broken by a quick spell from Aldora's wand. I thanked her, but my heart seemed to have crash-landed all on its own, as I was certain I'd blown the tryouts.

Aldroa watched the two of them a few moments more before blowing her whistle and calling everyone over. Two of last year's team caught the Bludgers and wrestled them into the case, strapping them down so they wouldn't escape and hurt someone.

I barely listened as Aldora went through the list of those who'd made the team. Evin Quigley had made Seeker again, and one of last-year's Chasers had also returned, a sixth-year named Carey Henderson. The third Chaser was Rory Brennan, who was in my year. The Keeper was some girl I'd never met named Hannah Henderson.

Then the Beaters. The second-year girl's name was called (Sekhmet Stark), and I clapped for her, and then the second Beater was called…and I was so certain it would be the burly kid that for a moment I didn't realize what name Aldora had actually called.

The second-year girl poked me in the arm, looking amused, and I looked at her bemusedly. 'What?'

Sekhmet laughed. 'She called your name, you made the team!'

I looked at her blankly for a moment, then at Aldora, who looked just as amused, and I laughed in astonishment. 'You're joking!'

'No, I'm not,' said Aldora. 'Congratulations, kid.'

'Hold on a second!' The angry voice came from behind me, and belonged to the burly kid who'd lasted the longest in the air, along with Sekhmet. 'He got taken out before I did, why is he getting the position?'

Aldora sighed, shaking her head slightly, and turned to the rest of the team. 'All right you lot, clear out…we'll start practice Tuesday evening.' I glanced at the burly kid, who looked furious, and Aldora smirked. 'I can deal with him, don't worry.'

The disgruntled would-be Beater looked less than thrilled about Aldora's claim, but even he couldn't dispute it. As muscular as he was, Aldora was taller and at least as strong. I was tempted to stick around to see what happened but decided it would be best to just get the hell out of there. The shock of making the team was wearing off enough for me to actually be excited, and I laughed. Sekhmet, the girl who'd also made Beater grinned at me.

'Congrats,' she said, and my grin widened.

'You too,' I said, offering my hand. She shook it as we walked back towards the castle. Well, she walked, I limped. I was suddenly glad the kid was on our side! I wasn't sure, myself, why I had gotten the position above the other kid, but suspected his attitude might have had something to do with it.

Ke'koa and the others met us as we were halfway between the pitch and the castle, and Ke'koa nearly knocked me down as he ran at me. I yelled in protest as I stumbled on my bad leg, and he apologized, but he was laughing at the same time. 'That was wicked, mate!' he exclaimed.

'Yeah,' said Arcturus. 'My favorite part was when you got whacked by a girl!' He winked at Sekhmet, who rolled her eyes and went on ahead of us. I snorted and punched Arcturus in the arm.

'Finally, huh?' said Ke'koa. 'You've been waiting for this since first year!'

'No kidding!'

Arcturus grinned. 'Now I can announce all your spectacular moves when I commentate.' He'd been the commentator on the broom sports since last year, him and one of the Hufflepuff boys. They took turns with Quidditch and Creaothceann.

'Fantastic. Practice starts next week.'

We talked Quidditch all the way back into the castle, and my friends accompanied me to the hospital wing to make sure nothing was broken. Sekhmet was there, also, having the cut above her eye dealt with, and being told off by Mr Jacey, who wasn't a fan of sports that caused bodily harm. (Ke'koa was told off nearly every day by Mr Jacey.)

Once my bruised muscle was healed, we spent the rest of the day at our leisure. We went outside and swam in the lake, or played wizard tag (which involved using a color-changing Charm on people) or played Exploding Snap.

That night, I took some parchment and my quill and wrote a letter to my parents. I told them I'd_ finally_ made the Quidditch team, and that one of the older students wasn't happy about being cut out. (I wondered how Aldora had handled the brute.) I also asked if they'd heard anything yet about Professor Ryan before folding it up and using a wax stick to seal it.

Once I'd borrowed Peter's owl (he had a barn owl he used to carry his post) and sent the letter off, I got into bed and lay down. But it was a while before I could really get to sleep.


	5. A Change of Staff

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 5: A Change of Staff**

On Monday morning, Professor Miller addressed all the students before breakfast appeared on the tables. He stood up and announced that he had been made the headmaster by the board of school governors, a proclamation that made everyone start whispering in astonishment. He held up his hands for quiet until the whispering stopped, and continued: 'As I can no longer be Head of Hufflepuff nor Muggle Studies teacher, I would like to introduce those who will be filling those positions. Taking over for me as Head of Hufflepuff House is Skylar Harlow, our Arithmancy teacher.'

There was applause all up and down the hall, particularly from the Hufflepuffs, but people were still whispering and murmuring excitedly. Peter was watching Professor Miller with a frown, and Ke'koa and Faolan were whispering rapidly to each other. I glanced at the other teachers, most of whom looked grim and serious.

Miller continued. 'And our new Muggle Studies teacher is Professor Bond O'Malley.' Miller nodded to a new man sitting at the Staff Table, who had brown hair longer than mine. The man stood, smiling in a self-conscious sort of way as a spate of applause greeted the introduction. 'Professor O'Malley has worked for the Ministry in the Muggle Relations division and is well qualified for the position. I know you will all make him feel welcome.'

As Miller and O'Malley sat back down, the breakfast was finally sent up and people began to eat. But I wasn't hungry all of a sudden…this was all too strange.

'What do you think?' asked Peter quietly.

'I think I want to know what happened to Professor Ryan,' I said, and Peter nodded.

'Yeah…so does everyone else. You're not the only one who thinks this is sorta weird.' He turned back to his eggs and I nibbled on a piece of buttered toast, as I watched the new teacher. He seemed okay for the time being; he was talking in a friendly manner to Professor Pender, the Potions master. Miller was making conversation with Forrester…everything seemed pretty normal.

But still.

Miller's promotion to headmaster was the only thing people wanted to talk about all day, and the professors were having problems keeping people's minds on their classes. Professor Forrester finally gave up on trying to keep people's minds on Magical Creatures and spent the class talking with Artemis Fletcher instead.

A very familiar owl came for me that night at supper: our family's owl, Herald. My heart gave a painful leap to see my mother's scrawling script written on the folded letter as I took it from Herald's leg: there was my name and the imperative sentence, 'DO NOT read this at supper! Wait until you're in the dorms.'

I blinked as Herald helped himself to a bit of my supper before flying off, and I scowled distractedly at him; who knew what he'd been sticking his beak in, and now he'd stuck it in my food! I pushed the plate away and got myself a fresh meal, glancing again at the parchment. 'Do not read this at supper.' For some reason that command was making me very uneasy. My mother wasn't normally so—cautious!

'Who's it from?' asked Peter.

'Mum…it must be a reply to what I asked her last week.'

Ke'koa glanced over at it, and Faolan looked like he might explode before I got to read it…he had been the one so single-mindedly trying to figure out what had happened to Professor Ryan after all, and I probably had the answer in my hand.

Arcturus wasn't at dinner with us; he'd gotten himself detention for throwing spitballs at the Moor twins in Care of Magical Creatures, but we could fill him in later. For now, I wanted to get upstairs and have a look at Mum's letter.

Gryffindor Tower was deserted when we got there, since everyone else was still at supper. Still, I wasn't a out to take any chances; I scurried up to the boys' dorms, my friends following in my wake, and sat on my bed. When the others were grouped around me, I looked around once, then broke the wax seal on my letter.

_Dear Calen,_

_First of all, congratulations on making the team! Your father and I knew you could do it, but he reiterates his caution not to do anything too insane when you play. _

I rolled my eyes as Ke'koa snickered.

_As for Victor Ryan…well, there's no real way to say this other than to just say it: Professor Ryan is dead._

I gaped at the letter in my hands, too shocked to utter a word. _ Dead?_ How could he be dead? Professor Ryan had been at Hogwarts, hadn't he? People didn't just die at Hogwaets…not anymore! I heard Peter gasp behind me as he got to that point in the letter and I looked at my friends; they all looked as stunned as I was.

'How?' Faolan managed to ask. 'How? Does your mum say?'

'I-I dunno—lemme see,' I stammered, looking back down at the letter, my eyes darting back and forth as I read the letter as quickly as possible.

_This is not to go any further than this letter and anyone that you trust, at least not until it's out in the Prophet. He was found just outside of Hogsmeade, killed by a Muggle weapon, by the looks. No clues as to who could have done it, or why. But he was very close to Hogwarts. I want you all to be careful over there, and if you see anything strange or suspicious, tell someone you trust…and write to us._

_Love you. Your brothers say 'hello'._

_Mum_

'Dead!' whispered Faolan. 'I can't believe it, who would want to kill Professor Ryan?'

'I dunno,' said Ke'koa, sounding dazed. 'That's just…that's kinda creepy, actually! I mean…he wasn't my favorite teacher, but still!'

I knew what he meant. I hadn't known Professor Ryan all that well, but he'd been a decent sort, and I was sorry that he'd been killed…murdered! I had never known someone that had been murdered, or even someone that had died! It was a sobering, frightening thing! I folded up Mum's letter, sliding off the bed to bury it in the bottom of my trunk. Then I stood up, running my hand through my hair.

'You think the other teachers know?' asked Peter.

'I think they know _something,' _said Ke'koa. 'Didn't you see them at supper? They know something's wrong for sure. Who d'you suppose did it? Just some random nutter?'

'No,' said Faolan grimly. 'No…didn't you read that part, the 'Muggle weapon' part? He was killed the same way as all those other deaths we've been seeing in the paper. Like that Malfoy bloke, and the Ministry woman the week before….'

We all exchanged thunderstruck looks…how could I have missed that? Muggle weapon…. 'But what would a Muggle be doing so close to Hogsmeade?' Peter asked.

'Don't ask me,' said Faolan, glancing at the door as we all heard the sounds of some other Gryffindors entering the common room below. 'All we know is it was a Muggle weapon…we dunno if a Muggle was holding that weapon or not.'

Footsteps on the stairs shut us all up; I certainly didn't want to get Mum in trouble for telling us something we probably weren't supposed to know. No one came into the third-year dorms yet, but I was sure they would be eventually, and if people were starting to come up from dinner, I didn't want to risk being overheard.

The four of us spent the time playing Gobstones and Exploding Snap, but I didn't do very well.

When Arcturus got out of detention, we quietly told him what happened via the mirrors, but he didn't look as shocked as we were. 'I'm not surprised,' he said grimly. 'Not real happy, but not surprised. A lot of the Slytherins have been saying that he was dead…guess they were right. But why him? He doesn't fit the pattern.'

I frowned, looking at Ke'koa, who shrugged. I thought about what Arcturus said, and thought back to the last one that had been found dead, the woman in the Ministry who had been trying to get the non-human wand use law repealed. Then to Hyperion Malfoy, who'd wanted to keep Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts. Professor Ryan hadn't been like that; he was half-blood himself, and I was pretty sure that he'd taught Muggle Studies himself before becoming Headmaster!

'A copycat crime?' asked Faolan. 'Someone who didn't like him, maybe, killing him like that so people'd think it was the same people?'

'Maybe,' said Arcturus from the mirror. 'But it'd odd, isn't it? Why'd he leave Hogwarts?'

'Well, the teachers do leave to go into the village,' said Peter. 'They go to the pubs or the shops or whatever when they're finished with their work. I imagine they waited until Professor Ryan did that.'

'Well I suppose Professor Miller'll do a decent job,' said Ke'koa. 'He was a pretty decent teacher. I'll see how his replacement does in Muggle Studies.'

'Hey,' I said with a goofy grin. 'Maybe Professor Miller's the one who did it so he could become Headmaster.' All four of my friends gave me a _look_, and I shrugged. 'You never know!'

The next second, a pillow came at me, knocking me off the bed and onto the floor. I handed hard, laughing, and caught sight of Ke'koa wielding the weapon. Faolan and Peter added their pillows to the assault until I was yelling in protest, fending off a full scale attack. Arcturus was cheering in support of my friends, and I suddenly thought I knew how Julius Caesar had felt!

Finally, as all of us were laughing too hard to fight anymore, the pillows stopped flying. Rory Brennan came in at just that moment, blinking, and giving us a very strange look. 'Listen, if you all need some time alone together, I can leave,' he offered with a straight face.

That got us all laughing again, and Ke'koa hurled his pillow at Rory. Then he looked down at me, shaking his head in despair. 'You're an idiot, mate.'

What could I say? I couldn't deny it.

--

I ended up having to keep Mum's letter for longer than I'd expected. I thought the Daily Prophet the next day would report the death, but it didn't. In fact at first I thought that Professor Ryan's disappearance wasn't in the paper at all, until Faolan borrowed a copy from one of the other students and paged through it, spotting a small headline on page 3.

'Look at this,' said Faolan disgustedly. 'Listen: 'Victor Ryan, well-known Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry remains missing as members of Magical Law Enforcement search for his whereabouts. Rumors of his death have not been substantiated, and the Ministry urges people not to jump to conclusions. Evidence points to Ryan having left the school of his own accord, and it thought to have left the country entirely.'

Arcturus, who was having breakfast with the Gryffindors as he often did, grabbed the paper, re-reading the article indignantly. 'But your mu--' he began, and Ke'koa smacked his arm.

'Shh!' he hissed.

Arcturus winced, glanced around, then looked back down at the paper. 'Sorry,' he said. 'But…but they couldn't have been mistaken, could they? Why's the Ministry keeping it quiet?'

I could only shake my head, frowning at the paper, and wondering the same thing. Why had the Ministry kept it quiet? Did they know more about Professor Ryan than even Mum had told us?

'Maybe it's not the Ministry, but the Prophet,' said Faolan. 'Though…either way I suppose it's not a good thing.'

Arcturus shook his head disgustedly. 'Those blokes must think people are idiots. If Professor Ryan's just 'missing', then why would the school governors have made Miller the headmaster? I mean, it's official. Even if Professor Ryan came back this very second, he'd have to petition the governors to get his job back!'

That was a very good point. The governors obviously didn't expect Ryan to come back. I was sure they had close ties to the ministry…maybe they had an inside source. 'Maybe they want more information before they print the story,' I said doubtfully.

'Maybe,' said Arcturus, handing the paper back to the girl Faolan had borrowed it from. 'But I doubt it.'

The one, little Daily Prophet article was the only thing we heard officially about Ryan; so far as most people were concerned, he'd just disappeared off the face of the earth. But there were other kids who had parents working in the Ministry, and they had obviously asked, too. And so somehow, eventually, the knowledge that Professor Ryan had been murdered was all over the school.

Of course most of the adults dismissed this as rubbish, except people like Professor Blake, and had little patience for what they called 'silly rumors.' As the school year gained its momentum, progressing past first-of-the-year catch-ups, we all got too busy to worry much about Professor Ryan. No new news had come out about his death, and the rumors began dying down as people had other things to concentrate on.

Ke'koa and I had practice: he had Creaothceann and I had Quidditch. Faolan, and I had Dueling Club meetings starting the second week of school, and even Peter had practice; he sang tenor in the school choir. The only one not in any clubs was Arcturus; even as much as he liked dueling, he disliked the rigid rules and structure of dueling club.

But it didn't matter. Even with no clubs, he was busy enough; the new third-year classes gave us more homework than we'd had last year, and that only added to our schedules. Faolan and Ke'koa had the worst of it with their Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies classes, since Care of Magical Creatures and Divination didn't have much in the way of homework. (Lucky me.)

Speaking of Muggle Studies, Ke'koa said the new teacher seemed okay enough, though a lot more distant with his students. He'd assigned a new textbook for his Muggle Studies classes, supplying them himself instead of making the students pay for it. I thought that was pretty weird, especially when I got a look at it. All the historical stuff about Muggles was gone from this book, all the witch-burnings and violence and all. Apparently O'Malley had said there was no need to dwell on the past…that was for History class.

'He puts Muggles in a good light,' said Ke'koa. When I asked if that wasn't a good thing, Ke'koa didn't answer.

Mum did write a few times, and I asked her if anything else had come about, but she said they didn't know anything about how the Headmaster had died or who did it…just like all the other deaths. But she repeated her plea for us to be careful, which had me a little uneasy. Mum usually wasn't a worrier. Still, I was keeping too busy to dwell much on it. Hogwarts has a way of keeping people busy.

--

Before I knew it, it was October, and Halloween was just around the corner. And better than that: our first Hogsmeade visit! None of us had ever been to Hogsmeade before; as we all lived in England, not Scotland, we used Diagon Alley for our shopping. But Hogsmeade was an entire village of wizards and witches…and there were some amazing places there.

The Hogsmeade weekend was on Saturday the twenty-sixth of October, beginning after breakfast. The Wednesday before, in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Professor Blake collected the permission slips from those Gryffindors whose parents had given them permission to go. (I didn't think any had failed to get permission.)

He also told us that we'd all better behave, and that he had special punishments for those who disgraced Gryffindor with unruly behaviour. We all knew Professor Blake too well to take him _too_ seriously, though, and even Blake couldn't keep a straight face for long. He did say that if we were too horrible, we wouldn't be allowed back, but he was usually pretty open-minded about what constituted 'acceptable mischief.'

So when Saturday rolled around, I for one was too excited to eat much. I had a little bit of toast, but that was it, saying I planned to stuff myself silly with sweets from Honeydukes, a legendary sweetshop in Hogsmeade.

'You're gonna have an incredible stomach-ache,' warned Faolan.

'Nah,' I said. 'If I eat too much, I'm sure I can get an anti-nausea potion from Mr Jacey. Besides, I know you're gonna eat just as much!'

'Not me,' said Faolan with a grin, though I wasn't fooled. None of our group turned down sweets very often.

'Well, come on then!' said Ke'koa with a laugh. 'Let's get there as early as we can…we don't wanna miss anything, do we?'

'It's not like we won't have any other trips this year,' said Peter calmly. 'We always have one before Christmas; people do their Christmas shopping then.'

That was a great idea! I would have to scout out the different shops to get an idea for my little brothers. My parents were fairly easy to shop for, but I liked getting neat things for my brothers.

Once everyone had finished their breakfasts, the five of us headed out of the Great Hall to the huge, oak front doors. Faolan was talking excitedly about the haunted house that supposedly sat on a hill in the village, while Arcturus wondered if there was a place like Knockturn Alley. Peter and I discussed what we would get for our families for Christmas.

The caretaker, Wiley Hummel, was outside the doors, checking off people's names on a list he had. Somehow he seemed to know the names of every students in the school, even the new ones, and I always found that creepy. Especially if you were a rule breaker. He was tough to get things past!

Mr Hummel nodded politely as we passed, checking off our names. 'You behave now, boys,' he cautioned with a grin. His shoulder-length black hair framed his face, making him look a little like a vampire. Maybe he was!

'He's weird,' said Ke'koa as we went down the front steps towards the Hogwarts gates, where a crowd of students were bottlenecked. 'He's just weird.'

'Hummel's all right,' said Peter. 'He's just kind of creepy, that's all. And I think he knows every single secret passageway in the entire school…too bad he'd never tell us about them.'

'I wonder if he keeps a list or a map,' said Arcturus as we neared the gate. 'We should sneak into his office someday and find out!'

Everyone liked that idea, and we gleefully planned such an excursion as we squeezed through the crowd at the gates and were at last on our way to Hogsmeade Village. We'd probably never really do it, but plotting mad schemes and adventures was a favourite pastime of ours, whether we actually did them or not.

Hogsmeade was a long walk from Hogwarts. It never seemed that long when we rode the carriages from Hogsmeade Station, but walking was a lot different than riding. The day was a little chilly, but we were all hot and sweaty by the time we reached the outskirts of the village, where a large wooden sign proclaimed: 'Welcome to Hogsmeade!'


	6. Hogsmeade

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 6****: Hogsmeade**

Arcturus made an exaggerated 'I'm dying of heat' sort of noise and took off his travelling cloak. The rest of us had already taken off jackets and outer robes and rolled up our sleeve. Arcturus looked at the rest off us, shaking his head in mock despair at our attire. He usually wore robes, claiming that he wouldn't be caught dead in weird Muggle clothing. Ke'koa often offered to test that theory for him, but Arcturus usually declined the offer.

I didn't mind Muggle clothes much; what I wore when I didn't have my school clothes on was usually a mix of Muggle and wizard. Today, for instance, I had a pair of short pants and shirt beneath a long-sleeved robe…though the robe was currently tied bulkily around my waist. Faolan had on half-and-half, too: a pair of worn jeans and a T-shirt beneath a light riding cloak.

Ke'koa preferred Muggle-wear, and had on jeans and a jumper; his jacket was slung over his shoulder. Peter was just wearing a school uniform, minus the tie; to him, clothing was clothing and he rarely brought much normal clothing from home.

'We look like one of the charts in my Muggle Studies class,' said Ke'koa with a snicker. 'You know, those ones that show the difference in Muggle and wizard-wear. A lot of wizards, especially the adults, don't know how to wear Muggle clothing.'

Peter gave a sudden giggle. 'I know,' he said. 'I've seen them try sometimes, especially in areas where they're among Muggles. I once saw a woman wearing a pyjama top and an underslip. She was getting a lot of weird looks.'

'I saw a bloke wearing a kilt and a woman's blouse once,' chimed in Faolan. 'It looked pretty silly.'

'My little brother wears kilts sometimes,' I said. 'But he wears them properly. He says they're a lot more comfortable than trousers.'

'Aw go on,' said Arcturus. 'Most wizards aren't that bad at Muggle dress. If they just research a bit before trying it, it's not that difficult…is that teacher of yours muggle-born, Ke'koa?'

Ke'koa frowned, obviously having to think of the answer. 'Not sure,' he said. 'He might be. Probably. He looks down a bit on purebloods sometimes, but I don't think he means to. Probably just all that anti-mage history.'

We continued our conversation on Muggle clothing all the way into the village proper, where we joined the hoards of Hogwarts students enjoying their first day of real freedom away from the castle. It felt a bit weird to be out in the town without adult supervision, but it sure felt good!

'Where should we go first?' asked Faolan excitedly. 'Honeydukes?'

'No, let's leave that for last,' said Peter sensibly. 'We're all gonna get a load of sweets, we don't want to carry it all over the place.'

'Let's just walk around a bit first,' I suggested. 'See what's here. Then we can decide where to go.'

The others were agreeable to this plan, and we began walking up the main street, looking at the shops in the business district.

I saw several I wanted to check out: Honeydukes' sweetshop, The Three Broomsticks inn, the owl Post office (I'd never seen one), Scrivenshaft's, Gladrags wizardwear…. I also saw there was a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, a shop started by one of my ancestors—a first cousin four or five times removed or something like that. Anyway, at that point there were four or five WWW shops in the UK now, and it was the most popular joke and novelty chain in the country.

That morning we visited WWW, the Post Office, and Gladrags (where Ke'koa bought a hat with his favourite Creaothceann team on it.) A little after noon, we stopped into the Three Broomsticks for lunch, a bright, clean bar that was absolutely crowded with kids and teachers. I saw Professor Blake there and waved, and saw Professor Melville, whom we avoided. Professor Melville was the Head of Slytherin, and she taught Charms, and was one of the meanest teachers I had ever met. She didn't like Gryffindors at all and wasn't entirely nice to us.

We were lucky. Ke'koa spotted a table in the corner that was recently vacated by a group of sixth and seventh years. He pointed it out and we claimed it for ourselves before anyone else could spot it. I noticed a group of Slytherins looking annoyed, and manufactured a smirk to flash in their direction. One of them made a rude gesture, and they shuffled off.

'All right then,' said Arcturus. 'I'll go get our drinks…I guess everyone wants butterbeers?'

'Not me,' said Ke'koa. 'I want a pumpkin fizz.'

'Butterbeer for me,' said Faolan. I also said I wanted butterbeer, and Peter obviously thought the fizz sounded good. Arcturus gathered the sickles from us for the drinks, then left the table.

'Hogsmeade is brilliant!' Faolan exclaimed as Arcturus left the table. 'The Post Office was just weird. The only place I've ever seen that had so many owls is the owlery at Hogwarts. And those aren't color-coded.'

'Weasleys Wizard Wheezes was the best,' I said. 'Can you imagine some of that stuff? The Diagon Alley premises doesn't have some of the things I saw in there, like the Detectorings and the Invisibility paint.' The Hogsmeade shop was a lot larger than the Diagon Alley shop!

'Here you go, gentleman!' said Arcturus, returning with an armful of bottles, and two mugs held in his other hand. Ke'koa stood and got on of the mugs, his pumpkin fizz, then sat back down.

'Cheers,' I said, grabbing one of the bottles of butterbeer before it fell on the floor.

'Where shall we go after lunch?' asked Peter.

'The Shrieking Shack!' exclaimed Peter. 'It's supposed to be the most haunted building in the United Kingdom.'

'That sounds good to me,' said Ke'koa. 'Even the people who live here are afraid of the place—I'll bet there's nothing wrong with it at all. Why would they be afraid of ghosts, anyway? Most of 'em went to Hogwarts, didn't they? It's full of ghosts.'

'Well, maybe it's not ghosts,' I said. 'Maybe it's…I dunno. Banshees, or inferi or something.'

Peter gave a shudder, his mouth turning down in an expression of disgust. 'Inferi…those are vile. You don't suppose there's really such a thing, do you? The, er, animated dead?'

Arcturus nodded grimly. 'There is,' he said. 'There's such a thing. One of my aunts even knows the spell; she showed me once when I was little. She used it on my cat, who'd died the day before. I'll never forget it.' He tensed for a few seconds, and I thought he might be suppressing a shudder, himself. 'She—my cat that is—was all stiff and unnatural, limping around dragging her back feet. My aunt thought it was the funniest thing in the world.' Arcturus scowled, twisting the cork from his butterbeer bottle and tossing in on the table. His expression was uncharacteristically ugly as he took a sip.

I felt a bit sick, myself. 'What a horrible thing to do to some poor dead body!' I exclaimed in revulsion. I tried to imagine a human being brought to life like that, and couldn't quite do it. I'd never even seen a dead human before, and didn't think I wanted to.

'They're vicious, too, when they're made into inferi,' said Faolan quietly. 'It's a really Dark spell. No decent wizard would use it…probably no decent wizard would even know it.'

'Yeah…she kept trying to bite me,' said Arcturus. 'She never bit.'

'How old were you?' asked Peter, his expression turning from disgust to sympathy.

'Eight.'

'Eight!' Faolan exclaimed. 'She showed that to you when you were eight? Blimey I'm surprised it didn't traumatize you for life!'

Arcturus shrugged a little. 'Had nightmares for weeks.' He took a huge gulp of his butterbeer, looking extremely unhappy.

'Well...in that case,' said Ke'koa in a rather brave attempt to lighten the mood and cheer his friend. 'May a diseased mountain troll fall in love with your dear aunt and follow her to the end of her days.'

A spluttering sound from my left told me Faolan had choked on his butterbeer, Peter made a sound of disgust, and I let out a cackle of laughter. 'A diseased troll?' I repeated in disbelief. Arcturus was looking at Ke'koa as if he'd just sprouted a few extra arms, then started laughing.

'You are disgusting,' said Peter, finally allowing himself to laugh. 'That's revolting.'

'But a fitting punishment,' said Ke'koa, grinning, his dark eyes fixed on Arcturus.

Arcturus, noticing the gaze, nodded. 'Yes…yes, fitting it is. Thanks, mate.'

The mood after that was far lighter, the image of Arcturus's aunt fending off the attentions of a love-sick mountain troll making it impossible to feel too gloomy, but Arcturus's description of an inferius was going to stick with me a while all the same.

'So,' I said when everyone had finished their drinks and were looking restless again. I for one was more than ready to get back to exploring the village. 'Which of you lazy gits can beat me to the Shrieking Shack?'

And before any of them could give a verbal answer, I bolted from my seat, lunging for the door, and escaping out into the crisp autumn afternoon. I heard several outraged shouts at my head start, and looked back to see the pack of them running after me. Laughing, I turned back around and put all my speed into running.

I wasn't the fastest among my mates, but I was quick enough, and I liked to run. I grinned wildly as I coaxed yet more speed from my legs, laughing just because I couldn't help it. The October air was full of magic, with Halloween just around the corner, and the cold wind cleared my mind. I looked back once more to see that Ke'koa and Arcturus were gaining on me, and stuck my tongue out at them, a childish but clear challenge.

Ke'koa laughed and lowered his head, charging at me like a mad bull. I turned back around, rounding a corner and getting halfway down the street before I realized something: I had no idea where I was going. At this thought I literally skidded to a halt in the dusty street, stumbling to keep my balance, yelling in surprise on turning round to see Ke'koa right in my face, looking strangely large for his proximity. Neither one of us could possibly move in time. Ke'koa's expression turned in a second from determination to surprised dismay, before he crashed into me, sending us both tumbling into the dirt.

I yelled as I scraped my hand on a sharp stone and skinned my knees on the dirt street. Ke'koa landed on me, his stout weight driving half the breath from me, then scrambled up into a sitting position, swiping his wavy, dark hair out of his eyes and levelling a tirade at me for stopping like I had. Arcturus caught up to us a moment later, howling with laughter as I sat up wincing and investigating the damage.

Faolan ran up as I was getting my breath back, and Ke'koa was getting to his feet, brushing the dust out of his clothing. I looked sheepishly up as Faolan asked if we were okay; I could see he was bursting to break into hysterical laughter, but was admirably holding it in for the time being.

'Fine,' I said with a sort of laugh as I got gingerly to my feet.

Arcturus was finally calming down enough to ask if I was sure, looking me over to ascertain that I wasn't badly hurt. My knees and hand were bleeding but that was about it.

'We're fine,' said Ke'koa, levelling an exasperated glare at me. 'Though I think Calen's lost his bloody mind! Why the hell did you stop like that?'

I was about to answer when Peter finally reached us, his face red with exertion, his expression concerned. He, too, asked if we were okay, and I assured him that we were. 'I just realized I don't know where the Shrieking Shack is.'

Ke'koa looked at me in astonishment. 'So you just…stopped! Couldn't wind down, or—or give warning, or…?'

Faolan finally started laughing as I shrugged. 'Didn't occur to me.'

'No kidding!' Ke'koa looked around, and I followed his gaze, noticing finally that we were being watched by several other people, including a few shopkeepers and some random Hogwarts students, most of which looked highly amused. I felt my face colour, and Ke'koa rolled his eyes in a theatrical, long-suffering expression.

'All right, you two,' said Faolan with a laugh, putting a hand on each of our shoulders. 'Let's get out of here before you make bigger fools of yourself, huh? If that's possible, I mean.'

Ke'koa pointed the accusing finger as he let Faolan steer us back out of the street. 'This was allll his making.' I couldn't argue.

After that, we made our way at a far more civilized pace, and I finally started laughing about the whole thing, imagining just how ridiculous that must have looked to the spectators. I felt like an idiot, but at least it had been fun.

We turned onto a different street to get away from the people who'd seen us make fools of ourselves, and stopped by a bookshop so that Peter could go in and ask directions to the Shrieking Shack. I took the opportunity to take a handkerchief out of my pocket and wipe the blood from my knees, finally using it to bind my cut hand.

'It's nothing,' I said in answer to Faolan's concerned look. 'Just a few scrapes. Mr Jacey can fix it in a second.' I wouldn't have gone to the nurse for just a couple of scraped knees, but my hand had a good amount of skin scored away by that damned rock, and was bleeding a bit more than was probably healthy. I also wanted him to have a look at my ribs; Ke'koa didn't look it, but he was solidly built, and he'd landed right on top of me.

'You two are filthy,' said Arcturus, brushing at the back of my shirt as I bent over to pull my socks back up.

'At least they weren't cobbles,' said Ke'koa, wincing a bit. 'Now that woulda hurt.'

I grimaced, too; that _would_ have hurt. I suddenly became a lot more grateful it had been dirt and not stones.

Peter came out of the bookstore with a new shopping back that looked like it had a large book in it, and smiled. 'I know the way…let's _walk_ there.'

I laughed wearily. 'What a good idea.'

The shack actually wasn't too far away; only a few blocks. Walking at a sane pace, we got there about twenty minutes later. It was off the extreme east end of the town, near the border of the Forbidden Forest, which extended as far as I could see. It sat on a hill, on a large plot of land that was overrun with weeds and yellow, dry grasses. The place looked like an absolute wreck, but had not fallen in nor been demolished. I supposed the house's reputation kept the vandals away, and that the town kept it here as an item of interest. I was glad; I liked the house at first sight as we stood by the splintered wooden fence that surrounded the property. It was creepy as hell.

'I wonder if there's anyone in there right now,' said Faolan in an awed voice.

I shivered a little, grinning. 'There could be. Those windows are filthy. If anyone was watching us from in there, we wouldn't see them.' I shivered again as the wind gusted, bringing a chilly bite with it. I unwrapped my robe from around my waist and put in on, noting that Faolan and Arcturus were doing the same.

'But if the windows are that filthy, then no one would be able to see out of them, either' Peter pointed out, and I laughed.

'You have a way of ruining my imagination,' I told him.

He only shrugged, smiling a bit. 'Someone's got to keep your brain out of the clouds.'

A new voice behind us spoke up behind us, loud and obnoxious: 'What brain, Weasley? Your family aren't exactly well known for their brilliance!'

I spun around, my face heating up with indignity for the slur on my family name, and was utterly unsurprised to see Gideon and Cuthbert Moor standing there with their arms crossed, flanked by their dormmates, minus Arcturus. Ward Sullivan stood to their left, watching with a mild gaze, and Adair Cadogan to their right, looking even more sadistic than Gideon.

'What the hell would you know?' I demanded, taking an angry step forward.

'About brilliance?' said Arcturus mildly. 'Nothing whatsoever. Trust me. I spend more time in their company that I ever want, and I've not seen signs of sentience yet.'

The smirk disappeared from Gideon's face and he straightened up, narrowing his eyes. Beside him, his brother simply continued to smirk, gazing coolly at Arcturus. 'Better watch your mouth, traitor,' Gideon snarled at Arcturus.

'Yeah, I think you're right,' I said, glaring at Gideon. 'I think they were conjoined twins at birth—attached at the head! They shared a brain, I reckon.'

Arcturus laughed in appreciation. 'That's right. That explains a lot, they've only got half a mind each.'

Gideon snarled, flexing his muscles, and Cuthbert looked at Arcturus hatefully. 'You've got to sleep sometime, Rowle.'

'That takes courage,' said Faolan sarcastically, 'hexing a man in his sleep!'

'Only a Gryffindor bothers with chivalry,' said Cuthbert quietly. 'A Slytherin'll do what's needed.'

'What's 'needed'?' said Peter in disbelief. 'It's needed to hex someone in their sleep just because you didn't like what he said?'

'That's right, fatso,' said Gideon, and I was infuriated to see Peter's face colour pink. 'Keeps you inbred purebloods in your place.'

Ke'koa and I both drew our wands, and the Moor twins did the same. Cadogan and Sullivan laughed as if they were watching an amusing show. Peter's expression went from embarrassed to alarmed, and he hissed, 'Not here, those gits aren't worth it!'

'Yes, that's right!' laughed Ward Sullivan. 'Chicken out! So much for Gryffindor bravery!'

'That's it!' Faolan snarled, and lunged at Sullivan, but Arcturus grabbed Faolan by the riding cloak and yanked him back, making the Slytherins howl with laughter.

'Yes, curb your dog, Rowle!' called Cadogan, and Faolan made a furious sound, releasing the clasp of his cloak and lunging once more at the Slytherins, this time at Cadogan. The 'dog' comment I knew was just a little too close to the truth, and Faolan was always so sensitive; it infuriated me that those miserable louts used that against him! Faolan connected this time, breaking free of Arcturus's grip and tackling Cadogan to the ground.


	7. Brawl at the Shack

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER ****7: Brawl at the Shack**

Things went downhill from there. Cuthbert Moor turned his wand on Faolan, but I knocked him aside with a furious Impediment Jinx. Gideon threw a punch at Peter, who scowled and hit back; he didn't look powerful, but beneath his bulk, Peter had some strength.

Things could have gotten extremely ugly had it not been for an unexpected intervention. There was a childish, but somehow fierce cry, and something came swooping out of the sky, diving right at Gideon, who was just about to hex Peter from beneath his cloak. Gideon gave a startled cry and ducked, but there was a sharp crack, and he was suddenly laid out flat on the ground, knocked completely senseless. I looked up, shocked, and caught a red blur from the corner of my eye.

Cuthbert, always completely aware of his brother, turned around, his blue eyes wide with fury. 'Who did that?' he demanded, enraged, as he turned away from Faolan and Cadogan to run at us. Before anyone could answer, the red blur came at him from behind, and dove at him, something leaping through the air to drive him to the ground. Cuthbert let a cry of pain and staggered to his feet; so did the red blur, and everyone seemed rather shocked to see a smallish girl. I knew who she was, but I didn't think anyone else did.

Arcturus recovered first, using an Impediment Jinx to get Cadogan off of Faolan (neither of them seemed to have noticed the rest of us had stopped fighting), and Faolan scrambled to his feet, his face red, his fists clenched. Cadogan blinked and stared, finally noticing the newcomer.

'You'll regret this,' Cuthbert vowed, glaring hatefully at the girl, running to his groggy brother and helping him to his feet. 'No one attacks my brother!'

'Looks like I just did,' said the girl, utterly unafraid.

'Come on,' Cuthbert hissed at his friends. 'Before someone from the village comes…bloody nancy boys, saved by a girl!'

Ke'koa laughed in astonishment as the Slytherins hurried away, Adair Cadogan nursing a bloody nose, and Gideon staggering badly as his brother helped him away. 'That's rich!' he called after them. 'Seeing as you're the ones who got chased away by her!'

None of them answered, but I could tell they were utterly furious, more furious than I'd ever seen them. Not that I was all that worried; we'd proved we could handle ourselves just fine in a fight. But still…it was trouble.

I finally turned to the girl, who was dressed in Quidditch robes, and holding a Beater's bat in her hand. There was a reddish spot on it where she'd hit Gideon at full speed. Her broomstick floated serenely in the air where it had been when she leaped off it. 'You're completely insane, Sekhmet,' I said with a shaky laugh.

'Takes one to know one,' said Sekhmet with a grin. She was breathing hard with exertion and shaking a bit from the confrontation, but she looked exhilarated from the encounter all the same. Seemed she'd fit in just fine with our group.

'Er, you wanna introduce us to your friend?' asked Faolan.

'She was at the Quidditch trials,' said Ke'koa. 'Starkey, was it?'

'Stark,' she corrected. 'Sekhmet Stark.' She took a deep breath, swiping her dark hair back from her face. 'Those stupid gits…anyway, Calen, Aldora says not to forget practice. We start in an hour.'

I smacked my forehead in frustration with myself; I _had_ forgotten. I had forgotten it completely in the face of visiting Hogsmeade. 'I did forget…thanks,' I said. 'And thanks for the intervention…may I just reiterate…you're barking.'

Sekhmet finally laughed, getting back on her broomstick. 'Maybe,' she said. 'But normal is overrated. See you!' And just like that, she'd gone.

'Come on,' said Peter a little shakily. 'We'd better get back…those Slytherins might already be telling lies about what we've done. We're just lucky this didn't happen in the town, where people could see us. Blake's a decent sort, but even he wouldn't much like this.'

Peter was right. 'Yeah, let's get outta here,' I said. 'We can stop at Honeydukes really quick then go back to Hogwarts.'

None of us said anything as we trudged back towards the village, but I for one felt lousy. I knew we shouldn't have let the miserable brutes get to us, but it was so difficult. When I saw the hurt in Faolan's eyes or the humiliation on Peter's face, I wanted to pound the Moor twins into the ground until all that was let was a dark stain. And poor Arcturus had to live with the stupid gits. I hoped they weren't going to do anything serious to Arcturus in retaliation. They were right; he _did_ have to sleep sometime.

It wasn't until we were almost at Honeydukes when Ke'koa broke the silence. 'Hold on,' he said. 'That girl…isn't she a second-year?'

'Yeah,' I said, cocking my head curiously at Ke'koa, glad of the distraction. 'So?'

'So, how'd she get here? She's too young!'

I blinked, realizing that Ke'koa was right! How _had_ Sekhmet gotten here, past Hummel and all the security around the castle? 'I have got to ask her how she did that,' I murmured, resuming my walking.

We didn't stay long at Honeydukes, as brilliant as the shop was. It was unlike any sweetshop I'd been to, Muggle _or_ wizard, and was filled wall to wall with all of my favourite sweets. But even Peter and Faolan, who liked sweets better than any of us, weren't much in the mood to stay. So I just grabbed myself a box of Cockroach Clusters (earning the familiar disgusted look from my friends) and a package of Jelly Slugs and paid for them. Then we headed back.

Our silence continued as we trudged back towards Hogwarts with the few other students who were on their way back. It was a little early, but I for one had lost my desire to stick around and just wanted to get back and complain about the stupid Slytherins.

Except I had practice. Well, hitting bludgers all over the pitch would help my mood, and the prospect cheered me a little bit. I intended to ask Sekhmet how the heck she'd gotten into Hogsmeade while I was at it, and wondered if Aldora had known about it, also.

When we finally hit the Hogwarts gates, I looked over at the pitch; most the team was there, it seemed. 'Guess I gotta go up and change,' I said. 'What're you guys gonna do?'

'Plot revenge against the Moor twins,' said Ke'koa without hesitation.

I laughed. 'Well whatever you come up with…let me know! I'll meet you guys in the great Hall for the feast; I'm sure Aldora'll keep us out there 'til then.' I gave my friends a half salute, half wave, and trotted towards the castle to get my robes and my Beater's bat, both of which I had in my trunk.

After running up seven flights of stairs, not including the front steps, I was completely winded. I threw my bags from Hogsmeade down on my bed, flung open my trunk, and got out my red and gold Quidditch robes and my Beater's bat. I changed quickly, then grabbed my broom from where it leaned against the corner, and hurried out of the boys' dorms and through the common room, where several of the younger students were hanging out.

Once I got out through the portrait hole, I looked at my broom, then looked over at the nearest staircase…there were an awful lot of stairs. Shrugging, I mounted my broom and rode it along the hallway towards the landing, getting some very odd looks from portraits and people alike. It was a whole lot easier (and faster) than trying to run down all of those stairs, and I could save my energy for practice! It was kinda fun, too.

'Weasley!'

I was nearly down the last set – the marble staircase leading from the Entrance Hall – when the furious voice nearly made me fall off my broom. Bringing the broom to a stop, I turned around, groaning as I saw who it was: Professor Melville, Head of Slytherin House. She looked rather annoyed, to say the least, her short hair framing an almost feral snarl as she glared at me.

I sent a winning grin her way, but did not seem much moved by it. 'Er, yes, ma'am?'

'What is the meaning of this?' she demanded angrily. 'How dare you tear through here on a broomstick?'

'I wasn't tearing!' I protested indignantly…and I wasn't! I was even trying not to go very fast because I didn't exactly wanna mow anyone down…just a little bit faster than running, really! 'I was just--there's loads of stairs, and I just thought--'

'This is NOT a Quidditch pitch, Weasley,' said Melville. 'Twenty points from Gryffindor – and if I see you on a broomstick in this castle again, I shall tell the Headmaster. Understood?'

I sighed resentfully, getting off the broom and glaring around at the few students who were watching the confrontation. The Moor twins weren't there, I was glad to see, but it was small consolation. 'Yes, ma'am,' I muttered, and scowled at her back as she turned around to head back down into the dungeons.

I was not in a fantastic mood when I finally made it onto the Quidditch field. My first Honeydukes weekend hadn't been quite the adventure I'd hoped for. First falling in the street, then a fight with the Moor twins and their little friends, now being embarrassed by that grouchy old bat. Not to mention losing twenty points for Gryffindor!

Aldora looked very impatient by the time I got to the pitch. I knew I wasn't very late, but Aldora really liked being on time for practice, and could get fanatic about it. Still, she was a decent sort, and she didn't give me a hard time about it. She opened her mouth to say something, got a good look at me, and decided not to tell me off. Instead, all she said, was, 'Let's get to it!'

I was very grateful as I remounted my broom and took to the air. That cold wind whipped my hair all over the place, and I wished I'd remembered to tie it back. I brought my wand out of my pocket and did a quick binding charm, and hoped it would last for practice.

Our training session was fast-paced, strenuous, and very satisfying. At first, Aldora let out only one of the bludgers, to warm up, and Sekhmet and I took it in turns to whack it towards the Gryffindors, while the other practiced protecting them. When the second bludger was let loose, things got a bit more hectic, and I let my mind immerse itself into playing.

It was a good practice. I caught a graze on the side of my head, but it only bruised a little bit. My cut hand opened again, using the bat, but I didn't even notice until after practice. Sekhmet was knocked off her broom, but luckily she was only ten feet up or so and managed to sort of land on her feet, landing hard and sprawling in the grass. A few of us descended to see if she was okay, but she stood up, waving that she was fine. She looked a little shaky, but she got back up onto her broom and rejoined the session—the kid was tough!

It was getting dark when we finally quit, and Aldora praised us for a good practice. 'That Quidditch Cup's got our name on it this year,' she vowed.

'Not if I keep falling off my broom it won't,' grouched Sekhmet, and Aldora laughed.

'Don't worry about it, kid. You're not the first.'

I didn't blame Sekhmet; I would have been annoyed myself! I watched her stalk towards the dressing room, then turned to Aldora. 'Sorry I was late. I was riding my broom down all those stairs, and Melville caught me. She took a bunch of points, told me off, and was just the perfect end to my day.'

'It's all right,' said Aldora. 'I could tell you weren't exactly in a chipper mood. What else happened? You were in Honeydukes, weren't you?'

'Yeah…and got into a fight with a bunch of stupid Slytherins…the Moors and their friends. Sekhmet barged in and joined the fight on our behalf…it was pretty funny, actually. They got chased off by a girl.'

Aldora laughed aloud, shaking her head in amazement. 'Well I knew she knew a way into the village,' said she. 'Leave it to her to get in a fight while she does it. She likes to fight almost as much as that Slytherin bloke you're friends with…Arcturus? She prefers fists to wands, though. Muggleborn, I think.'

I finally laughed a little, too. 'She's pretty cool. Anyway. They weren't really polite to Faolan, and you know how easily he's upset. I just hope we're not gonna lose points over it.'

'I doubt it,' said Aldora as she opened the door to the dressing rooms and held it for me. 'I doubt they told. Then they'd have to admit they were also fighting.'

It was a good point I supposed…but it didn't make me feel much better about the conflict. I wondered if the guys had thought of any good revenges against the gits.

I didn't join in the team's normal banter in the locker room…I didn't stay long, either. I just put my bat in the trunk where we kept our collective gear and vowed to keep my robes in here, too. It would be easier and leave me with more room in my trunk.

After I was dressed as I had been that day (minus the robe), I made my way down towards the Great Hall. Delicious, succulent aromas were wafting from the kitchens, making my mouth water and my stomach growl. I hadn't gotten a chance to eat much of the stuff I'd gotten at Honeydukes, and I was famished. The only thought on my mind as I hurried across the crowded Entrance Hall was getting to a nice, big plate of whatever they were serving for supper.

When someone grabbed my arm, at first I thought it was one of my friends, so it was a rather unpleasant surprise when one of the Moor twins got in my face. Gideon, I thought. 'You'll pay for today, Weasley,' he growled as I blinked in surprise. 'You and that girl you got protecting you.'

Normally I would have laughed—it was pretty funny after all, what he was saying—but I wasn't in the mood. I tried to jerk my arm out of his grasp, but the miserable git was strong. 'Let go.'

Gideon smiled, but he did let go, even straightening the sleeve of my shirt, which he'd rumpled. 'Sure. For now. Just remember what I said.' That said, he marched on ahead of me towards the Great Hall, leaving me feeling utterly irritated. I looked around for his brother, but didn't see him, and assumed he was already inside.

I gave a sigh and walked the rest of the way across the Entrance Hall, into the Great Hall.

'Ah, there he is!' exclaimed Ke'koa as I approached. 'The very man!' He was sitting near the end, with Arcturus, Peter, and Faolan nearby. I managed a small smile and sat down, and Ke'koa's grin faded. 'What's wrong, mate?'

'It's been a lousy day,' I said, and described by day since I had separated them to go to Quidditch practice. 'And to top it all off, I just got threatened by Gideon Moor…he's probably planning on smashing in my face if he can catch me alone.'

Faolan snorted. 'That's the only way he could do it,' he said. 'Else you'd just hex him.'

'Yeah,' agreed Ke'koa. 'And he'd have his brother hiding somewhere with his wand out, waiting to jinx you if it looked like you were winning.'

That was probably true, too.

'Forget them, mate,' said Ke'koa bracingly. 'They're trolls, anyway. Come on, let's eat – they've got most your favourites here.'

As my ire began to fade, I could finally begin to really appreciate the delicious feast before me. I nodded my agreement and got myself a plate of food. Slowly, my bad mood began to lift…it was tough to do otherwise, when Ke'koa was deliberately being an idiot, or Faolan kept comparing our meals to various strange and disgusting things.

We were joined about halfway through our meals by Sekhmet, who greeted us amiably and sat down next to me, at the end of the table.

'Hello,' I said to her, slightly taken aback by her abrupt arrival. 'You just getting here?'

'Oh, no, I was eating with my friends at the other end,' she said with a grin. 'But I wanted to hear what happened with those Slytherin morons—have they said anything about the fight?' Her eyes were bright with curiosity, and I finally laughed.

'No, they haven't said a word,' I said. 'Unless you count Gideon Moor – I think it was Gideon anyway – threatening me. And you.'

Sekhmet's eyebrows rose and she looked gleefully amused. 'He did, did he? Well he can bring it on, the gormless oaf.'

Arcturus was looking at Sekhmet with an odd expression on his face. 'You're strange,' he said. 'And I'd know about strange. We had it sorted, you know – it was five of us against four of them.' I had the idea that Arcturus maybe didn't quite like this brassy girl…she definitely wasn't normal for a girl.

Sekhmet shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. 'I didn't do it because I thought you needed the help. I just flew in, saw it, and that's what happened. You don't really think about it.' She looked up at Arcturus. 'Do you?'

'Do I what?' asked Arcturus, and there was no mistake, he was irritated, now.

'Plan to get into a fight? You like to duel, don't you? Do you plan it when you fight someone, or does it just happen?' She speared a roast potato on her fork and took a bite of it; I had to laugh. It looked utterly uncivilized, her taking a big bite out of an entire potato. 'It's sorta…instinct.'

'If you say so,' said Arcturus doubtfully.

'So…how did you get into the village?' I asked Sekhmet in a quiet voice. 'You're not a third-year yet.'

At this, Sekhmet's grin became very sly, and she glanced around her before speaking in a near whisper. 'I've got my ways. There're…ways out of the castle that the teachers don't know about. I'll show you tomorrow, if you want.'

Even Arcturus was interested in this, and he eyed Sekhmet beadily. 'How'd you find them out?' he demanded. 'We've been over this castle with a fine-toothed comb. We've found about a million passageways, but only five out of the castle, and the only one that leads to Hogwarts is underneath the Whomping Willow—was it that one?.'

Sekhmet looked surprised. 'Oh really? The Whomping Willow, I didn't know about that one. No, it's…well I'll show you,' she said, glancing around again. 'There're too many people in there. I'll tell you how I came across it, too!'

'Sekhmet!'

Sekhmet looked up to see one of the second-year boys calling her name, and waved at him. 'Be there in a minute!'

'Well hurry up, we're playing Exploding Snap!'

'Okay!' The boy ran off towards a couple other second-years waiting for him at the door to the Entrance Hall, and Sekhmet stood. 'See you tomorrow!' she said, and ran off after the boy. I watched in amusement as she disappeared from sight.

'Kid's barking,' Arcturus muttered.

'Aw, she's all right,' said Ke'koa. 'Gotta admire her nerve.'

Arcturus snorted. 'That's just the Gryffindor in her. You lot never were known for discretion.'

Ke'koa laughed and punched Arcturus in the arm, and the two of them had a silent but fierce scuffle that ended with Arcturus knocking an entire plate of food to the floor. They decided to behave after that.

Once dessert had been served and we'd eaten our fill, I was started by a rather displeased voice right behind us. 'Evening, boys.' I turned around to see Professor Blake standing there, looking less than thrilled, and my chest got a little tight. Blake didn't get angry too easily, but when he did, it wasn't too pretty. 'The four of you, in my office after supper.' He looked at Arcturus and added, 'And Professor Melville wants you in her office as well.'

'Yes, sir,' he murmured, looking unhappily down at his empty plate. Blake looked at us, and I nodded glumly, repeating the same. Once he'd gotten an answer from all of us, he left the table, walking out of the Great Hall. Great. The perfect end to a perfect bloody day.


	8. The Humpback

**T****he Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 8****: The Humpback**

After dessert, as we four Gryffindors marched off towards Professor Blake's office, I kept glaring at Ke'koa, because he was singing the Doom Song. So far as I could tell, it was a funeral march, or execution music or something, and it wasn't so funny. I finally told him to knock it off, or I'd turn his hair pink.

When we reached Blake's office, I sighed, and raised my hand to knock. A moment passed, then Professor Blake called, 'Come in!'

I turned the knob and opened the door, hoping I wasn't going to get detention for the rest of the year. We trudged into the office, Faolan closing the door behind us. The office was as interesting as usual. A whole bookcase sat to the left, filled with interesting books. A large cage sat to the right, but it was empty, making me think we'd be seeing a new, strange beast next class. There were odd objects here and there, some photos of Blake's family and various charts, lists, and other odds and ends.

Professor Blake sat at his desk, his monocle wedged in his eye socket, a parchment in his hand. I wondered distractedly how people kept monocles in their eyes; it looked extremely uncomfortable. He looked up, and though he wasn't smiling, he at least didn't look too angry.

'Seems like you boys had a busy day,' he said mildly, peering at us.

I fidgeted, running my hand through my hair, exchanging a look with Ke'koa. 'Er, well, I guess you could say that,' I said. 'Who, er, made you aware of our…er….?'

I glanced up apprehensively, but Blake seemed to be smirking against his will. 'You mean who tattletaled on you?'

My face got a little hot, but a grinned sheepishly all the same. 'Yeah, that too.'

Blake finally chuckled a little, setting the parchment down on his desk. 'Mr Hummel just happened to be in the area and saw your altercation. He jotted down what he saw and sent me this note from the village. He also saw a certain Gryffindor Beater there that should not by all rights have been there at all, but I will assume he was mistaken about the identity of said Beater.'

I felt some relief at that; I liked Sekhmet, and she could have gotten into a whole lot of trouble for leaving the castle grounds. 'I'm glad of that, sir,' I said.

'Well then. You four.' Blake looked at all of us in turn, and looked at my friends, also. Faolan was looking unhappily at the ground, Peter looked as calm as always, and Ke'koa was giving Professor Blake a sort of endearing grin.

'We didn't mean to,' I finally said. 'They started it.'

Blake's eyebrows rose and he regarded me for a moment, then said, 'Perhaps you could give me your account of the encounter.'

And so we did. I began by telling him about going to the Shrieking Shack, and about the stupid Moor twins coming from behind and insulted the Weasley clan, of how they pushed it until Faolan finally lost his temper and was held back by Arcturus, finally breaking free and tackling one of the Slytherins.

'It was his 'dog' comment that did it,' I said quietly, looking at Faolan, who looked like he might cry. Blake knew about Faolan being a werewolf of course; all the teachers did. 'I mean I know they don't know about him, but, well….'

Blake finally sighed. 'Boys, look. I understand—but you can't start throwing fists every time someone says something you don't like!'

'Easy for you to say!' Faolan suddenly burst out, looking furiously up at Blake, his eyes looking very shiny. 'They make fun of me all the time, call me names and—embarrass me, and—don't you know how it feels to get insulted all the time?'

I blinked, a little surprised. Faolan did not usually explode like that at the teachers, especially Professor Blake. His face was red and blotchy and it looked as though this day's unpleasantness had affected him even worse than usual. I exchanged a glance with Ke'koa, and then Peter, who was looking at Faolan in concern.

'It's all right, mate,' said Ke'koa awkwardly, but Faolan didn't give him a chance to say much else.

'It's not!' he said. 'It's not all right, I hate those bastards—they always seem to know what's gonna get me most, and then they say it in front of everyone!' I winced at his language, but Professor Blake didn't say a word, he only let Faolan rant. Maybe he knew that trying to calm Faolan when he was like this was not the best thing to do. Faolan finally started to cry, his eyes spilling over, and he wiped angrily at them with the hem of his riding cloak.

Blake sensed that it was safe to speak, and his voice was not angry, I was relieved to hear. 'I do know what it's like,' said Blake quietly. 'Being born with albinism isn't the easiest thing in the world; I was teased and ridiculed quite often, myself. To this day, the name 'Whitey' makes my stomach clench with anger. As does 'Ghost' and 'Devil' and anything else you can think of to call someone with white skin and pink eyes.'

This gentle reminder that Blake maybe did understand how Faolan felt seemed too much for Faolan. A look of guilt came over his face and he clenched his teeth, sitting down suddenly in a chair near the desk. 'I didn't mean—I mean—sorry, Professor,' said Faolan, putting his head in his hands. Peter went over and put his arm around Faolan's shoulders.

Blake sighed quietly. 'Listen, boys,' he said. 'I'm going to have to give you detention…I'll get with you later with the details. And rest assured, the Slytherins won't get out of punishment, all right?'

I sort of nodded, still looking at Faolan a little worriedly.

'All right, Professor,' said Ke'koa in a sort of resigned voice. He and I got more detentions than the others so we were a bit more used to it. 'But if you give me some tedious detention, sir, I'll hold you responsible if I die of boredom.'

Peter gave Ke'koa an exasperated look, and Blake rolled his eyes. 'Somehow I doubt you'll expire, master Ilima. Well, go on then…I'll get word to you tomorrow about your detentions, all right?' Blake stood up and put a hand on Faolan's shoulder and added, 'Faolan, I'd like you to stay and talk with me a bit before rejoining your friends, all right?'

Faolan nodded miserably, and Peter reluctantly left his side.

'Night, sir,' I said as I opened the door. Blake smiled, nodding his head in answer, and I left the office.

None of us said anything as we climbed the many stairs that led to Gryffindor Tower. Ke'koa gave the password when we reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, and we climbed through the hole one by one. It wasn't until we'd gotten into the empty third-year dorms that any of us said anything.

'Er, about Faolan,' said Ke'koa, frowning and rubbing his hand at the back of his hair, like he did when he was agitated.

'You know, the full moon was just a couple of days ago,' I said quietly, suddenly realizing that was part of the problem. 'I think it affects him worse every year.'

Understanding dawned in Peter's eyes. 'And then those idiots, making that dog comment. And Faolan's so sensitive.'

'I know,' I said, scowling, feeling a sudden, fierce dislike for the people who took advantage of that. 'And then people call him a crybaby or say he's overreacting or being overdramatic or whatever…he can't help it. He just…I dunno. He reacts totally on feelings. More than most people do.'

'Blake was cool about it, though,' Ke'koa said, grinning. 'He coulda given us all a lot more than just a detention for fighting. Hell, he coulda kept us from future trips if he'd wanted to.'

'He could have,' I agreed. 'You know…it's weird, I mean I know kids make fun of Blake behind his back – mostly the Slytherins – but I never thought about whether it bothered him. I guess I just…I dunno, I thought that it didn't bug him. It never seems to make him angry…I wish I could control myself like that!'

'It upsets him,' said Peter quietly. 'I see it in his face sometimes. But he's a teacher, he can't be flying off the handle when he heard someone calling him stupid names, or laughing at his eyes or whatever. And it had to be tough as a kid. Look at how Arcturus gets made fun of because he looks a bit odd.'

I nodded, remembering some of the things people have said about Arcturus. He had an elvish look to him, thanks to that banshee blood, and people like the Moors were quick to notice differences. 'What time is it, anyway?' I asked, not wanting to bother turning around to look at the clock.

'Lazy git,' said Peter with a playful poke into my side. 'It's eight o'clock.'

'That's it?' I turned around myself, then, unable to believe it wasn't later. The day already seemed like it had taken about a week. 'Jeez. Time flies when you're having fun,' I said, shaking my head.

'Well I intend to spend the remaining hours doing that potions essay Pender set the fourth-years,' said Peter. 'What about you two?'

Ke'koa and I exchanged looks, and Ke'koa shrugged. 'Gobstones?' I suggested.

Ke'koa made a face. 'No thanks. Let's have a game of chess.'

'Okay.' Chess wasn't my favourite thing, but at least wizard's chess was better than the Muggle version. I heard those pieces don't move at all, and you have to move them yourself. How boring could you get?

Twenty minutes later, Ke'koa and I were watching a pair of pawns having it out, and Peter was lying on my bunk writing furiously on his essay. The dorm door opened, and Faolan came in, looking very tired. His face was blotchier than ever and his eyes were a bit swollen, but he was actually smiling a bit.

'All right, mate?' I asked, looking away from where my pawn had just been knocked out cold by Ke'koa's. Peter also looked up, looking Faolan over.

'Yeah,' said Faolan quietly. 'Blake—he's just a good one. He just talked with me a while about people who like to hurt other people. He never makes me feel stupid for crying easy…not like Melville.'

I snorted, feeling a rush of contempt for Professor Melville. 'Yeah, she's a petty one, all right. Why don't you come here and help me win this match? Ke'koa's winning…as usual.' On the Quidditch pitch, I was fair at strategy; you wouldn't think so, but playing Beater does require some thinking, not just muscles. But off the pitch, my sense of planning was complete rubbish.

Faolan laughed a little and came over. 'All right…whose turn is it?'

'Mine.' I gazed morosely at the board, then up at Ke'koa's smug grin.

Faolan hadn't arrived in time to save my chessmen from annihilation, but at least I managed to take a few more of Ke'koa's men before he won. By that time, Rory and Dragomir, the other third-years, had come into the dorms, and I was beginning to be tired.

'We can catch up with Arcturus tomorrow,' said Peter, stifling a yawn and shutting his Potions book. 'If Melville didn't chew him into pieces that is.' Professor Melville didn't like Arcturus any more than she liked us.

'Yeah, I'm beat,' said Ke'koa, yawning.

'So I heard you lot got into a fight with the Slytherins,' said Rory with a grin as he began changing into his pyjamas. 'I heard Mr Jacey say that Gideon had a concussion—who did that?'

I knew I shouldn't feel happy about that, but I was, and I couldn't stifle a smirk. 'None of us, actually. It was one of the girl Quidditch players, come flying in on broomstick.' I wasn't quite comfortable with naming her, even to Rory and Dragomir.

Rory let out a bray of laughter. 'Brilliant! Beaten by a girl, that's great. He conveniently left out that part.'

'I bet,' said Peter. 'That's all right though. We'll let it be known.'

It really wasn't the best day I'd ever had at Hogwarts, but I guess it ended up being a bit better by the end. I said goodnight to Peter, then crawled into my bunk, listening to Ke'koa tell Rory and Dragomir the story of the brawl by the Shrieking Shack.

I dunno if Ke'koa's gleeful story was the reason for my dream that night, but it was probably the weirdest I'd ever had. I was back at the Shrieking Shack, working on that essay about Voldemort I'd turned in at the beginning of the term. (I got an E on that, by the way.) I was sitting at a desk in the middle of the field outside the shack, when a strange, distant babble of voices caught my ear. I stood up to see torchlights in the distance, and a crowd of people – Muggles I realized – marching on the village, howling for our blood. They were waving hammers and pitchforks and all kinds of archaic tools as they ran towards me. I'd just turned to run when I woke up, my heart pounding so rapidly I thought it was gonna just stop.

I went back to sleep, feeling vaguely uneasy, and I was tired enough that I dropped off fairly soon. But I still remembered the dream in the morning. It was too weird not to.

--

Next day, I was outraged to hear from Arcturus that he had gotten a week's worth of detention from Professor Melville, but that the twins and their two friends hadn't gotten but one day's worth! And they'd done a whole lot more in that fight than Arcturus had.

'Unfair much?' I asked indignantly as we headed out onto the grounds after breakfast.

'Just a bit,' said Arcturus. 'I'll be writing lines for all of 'em, I reckon. What about you lot?'

'Detention,' said Peter. 'But only one. Dunno what we're doing yet for it, but I know it was a lot fairer than what you got.'

'Yeah, well,' said Arcturus glumly. 'Melville's never been known for being fair, has she?'

'Old hag,' muttered Ke'koa. 'Let's spike her pumpkin juice with U-No-Poo!'

We all cracked up at that, taken by surprise be Ke'koa's vengeful suggestion. U-No-Poo was one of the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products, and it caused acute constipation.

'Bad idea,' I managed to caution between guffaws. 'She's already enough of a tight-arse!'

That was it; none of us could talk for the next several minutes; we were laughing too hard. I finally began to calk down, holding my aching stomach, and lying down on the chilly grass. 'You know,' I commented, 'I gave myself a mental image I never want to see again.'

No one asked what that mental image might be. Based on my last comment, they surely got the idea, and I didn't think any of them really wanted to know more. I didn't want to know more!

'The Moors didn't give you any problems last night, did they?' asked Peter suddenly of Arcturus.

Arcturus shook his head, wiping his streaming eyed; he had laughed so hard he cried. 'No. but that's not their way. Gideon…well if it was up to him, he'd have attacked me in my sleep. But Cuthbert's a bit cleverer than Gideon is. He's waiting. For what, I dunno.'

'For us to be off our guard,' said Faolan. 'Cowardly git.'

'Well, what shall we do today?' I asked.

Arcturus sighed. 'Well nothing that'll take too long,' he said. 'My first detention is this afternoon after lunch. I probably won't be around much until supper.'

'That's all right,' I said darkly. 'Our first Quidditch game is against Slytherin on Friday. I'll make sure Gideon and Cuthbert Moor are kept busy ducking bludgers…I'm sure Sekhmet'll help me, too.'

'They both play Beater, don't they?' asked Peter.

'No, only Gideon – no surprise there, right? Cuthbert's a Chaser.'

'Best practice hard until then,' said Ke'koa with a grin. 'I reckon Aldora'd knock you out if you played badly your first game.'

I laughed a bit, but it was probably true. Aldora was a nice enough girl, but she could be a tyrant sometimes when she was coaching. I figured it was a tough job, managing the entire team.

It wasn't much of an exciting day, but I was okay with that; I had used up my excitement quota for a few days already. The five of us spent the morning hanging out on the grounds, visiting with Artemis, and playing wizard tag. After lunch, Arcturus had to go to his detention, Peter had choir practice, Ke'koa had Creaothceann practice, and Faolan and I were left to our own devices.

'Hey,' said Faolan as we left the Great Hall. 'Didn't that second-year girl say she was gonna show us how she found us yesterday?'

My eyes widened as I remembered, and a rush of enthusiasm triggered a grin. 'Oh yeah! Let's see if she's still at the table.' That would certainly make a boring afternoon a lot more interesting! Foalan agreed, and he and I trotted back into the Great Hall, stopping at the head of the Gryffindor table. I scanned each side of the table, looking for her head of dark hair, but I wasn't able to spot her. When I asked Faolan a moment later if he saw her, he hadn't, either.

'Well, let's go check the common room,' said Faolan. 'She's not in choir or Creaothceann, is she?'

That was a good question. I was pretty sure she wasn't in Creaothceann, as I never heard of anyone participating in that and Quidditch at the same time. But choir…. 'Well, I don't think she is,' I said. 'If we don't find her, I'll ask Peter later. For now let's check Gryffindor Tower.'

Sekhmet was not in the Gryffindor common room, nor was she in the girls' dorms. (No, we didn't go in there! We asked one of the girls to look for her.) Faolan asked one of the second-year girls if she was in choir, and the girl said she didn't think so, which left us with the option of searching the castle for her, from top to bottom.

'Well, why not?' I asked. 'It's not like we've got anything else to do.'

Faolan laughed. 'I guess so. Let's start over at the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower.'

My friends and I had a pretty good idea of the layout of Hogwarts, though we still got lost on occasion when visiting parts of the castle we'd not been in yet. Still, exploring was one of our favourite activities, and we had a better idea than most the others our age of how the castle is laid out.

Faolan and I began our search by travelling from Gryffindor Tower to Ravenclaw Tower, looking in the loos and asking people if they'd seen Sekhmet.

It took quite a while to search the castle floor by floor, but we got lucky; we found her with a friend on the sixth floor, looking as if she'd been on the way up to Gryffindor Tower. 'Oy!' I called, running to catch up with them. The two second-years turned around, looking surprised, and Sekhmet grinned.

'What?' she said.

I glanced at the boy Sekhmet had been walking with, then back at her and said, 'That thing you were gonna show me today – have you got time to do it?'

She looked blank for a moment, and then her eyes lit up in remembrance. 'That's right! I nearly forgot.' She turned to her friend and said, 'Look, I'm gonna show these guys something…meet you at dinner?'

The boy shrugged agreeably. 'Sure—see you!'

He looked to Faolan and me and gave a sort of wave, which we both returned. Sekhmet grinned slyly at us, looking once around, then gestured. 'Follow me,' she said, turning around and heading back down the stairs she'd just climbed. 'And I swear, if either of you tells--!'

I gave the girl a look_. _'If I was going to tell, Sekhmet, I woulda done it yesterday. By the way—you gotta be a bit more careful. Hummel was in Hogsmeade and saw us fighting. _All_ of us.' I gave her a significant look, and she looked a bit startled.

'Oh,' seemed to be all she could say.

'Yeah, Professor Blake called us all into his office and told us about it…said he'd assume Hummel was mistaken about your identity. But I'd not get seen again if I were you!'

She got over the surprise quickly enough, finally shrugging and saying, 'Well, I can't be perfect _all_ the time, can I?'

Faolan gave Sekhmet an odd look, but I just laughed. She was prone at times to fits of ego, and I was rather used to it from Quidditch, but Faolan didn't know her very well. He looked uncertainly at me, but I just grinned and patted his shoulder.

We met a few other people on the way down, but no one paid us much mind as we went down several flights of stairs. Our destination was on the third floor, along a corridor that we must pass dozens of times in any given week; it was on the way to Gryffindor Tower.

'Oh look,' said Faolan, his eyes fixed on a statue set along the wall. 'It's Arcturus's aunt.'

I grinned, knowing which statue he meant; it was a likeness of some humpbacked crone with one eye who Ke'koa had said must be one of Arcturus's less-pleasant relatives. Arcturus said his aunt was a good candidate.

'Is it?' asked Sekhmet, looking amused. 'You mean Arcturus Rowle? I'd feel sorry for his aunt, but I've heard of his family. It's probably true. Anyway, that's where we're going.'

'Er,' I said, feeling a bit confused. 'We're going to the statue?'

'Yep!' Sekhmet looked casually about her as we walked, insuring that we weren't being observed, and Faolan and I did the same. It was a good place to do something against the rules; it was a long corridor with only a few doors (that led to unused classrooms) and the sounds echoed well enough to hear anyone approaching from either end. Once we ascertained we were alone, Sekhmet went over to the statue, grabbed her wand out of a pocket in her blue robe, and tapped the humpback of the witch statue. 'Dissendium!'

Faolan and I were both very startled when the hump in the statue suddenly opened with a low grinding sound, revealing a secret passage that none of us had discovered yet! Faolan was gaping like a netted fish, and I was staring in befuddled shock. We passed that hideous statue how many times a day, and we never realized what was there?

'But how'd you discover this?' I asked, lunging forward to poke my head into the opening. There was a set of stairs leading down, and the passageway smelled like wood and dirt.

Sekhmet grinned furtively, waiting until I'd pulled my head back before tapping the statue again and watching it close back up. 'I was late for Charms one day last year,' she said. 'And I was running, trying to make it before the bell tolled. And I met with Peeves.'

Faolan and I both groaned; we'd had our share of encounters with the obnoxious poltergeist that had been around since who knew when. 'Peeves – that figures,' said Faolan. 'He loves to mess with first-years.'

'Tell me about it!' said Sekhmet. 'Anyway, just as I was sprinting, he tossed about a dozen walking sticks down on the floor right in front of my feet.' She didn't need to explain further for me understand what had happened; she'd sprawled flat on her face.

'Ouch,' commented Faolan mildly, though he was wincing as he imagined it.

'Yeah,' said Sekhmet, shaking her head in irritation; the memory very obviously still annoyed her greatly. 'Stupid git. Anyway, as I was howling in outrage, Peeves was cackling like a bloody hyena, flying off too fast for me to catch. I probably would've just got back up and went on to class, if I hadn't lost my wand out of my pocket when I fell, so I had to go after it. It was right next to this statue. When I bet to pick up my wand, I saw this.'

Sekhmet got on her knees, crouching down low, and touched a spot on the statue's plinth, very near the wall. Glancing once at each other, Faolan and I also got down on our knees, imagining how strange this would look if anyone were to come around the corner just then.

'I don't see,' I began, but then I did. It was barely visible, worn and faded by age, but it was there: a word, carved into the stone. 'Dissemdium,' I murmured.

'Yep,' said Sekhmet. 'Took me a while, but I figured it out…I was very, very late for class. Lost twenty points for Gryffindor from a really annoyed Professor Melville.'

'Figures,' I muttered. 'She wouldn't have done if it was the Moor twins or that idiot Cadogan.'

Sekhmet shrugged. 'I don't care—I'd found something a lot more interesting than Charms!'

'I guess you did,' I agreed, standing up and brushing the dist from my trousers. 'That's just…that's awesome…thanks! I can't wait to tell the others, they'll love it.'

'This the only passageway you know of?' asked Faolan.

Sekhmet nodded. 'Yeah. Except that one you told me about, the one under the Whomping Willow. I've asked around about it, and a few people know it from stories, but not where it leads.'

That was how I'd learned about that passageway myself, from stories told by my dad; I didn't think there was anyone who hadn't heard stories about that tree and the passageway beyond it. I wasn't sure where it went, either, though. 'Come with us sometime,' said Faolan to Sekhmet. 'And we'll show you a couple of others.'

'Brilliant!' she said happily. 'It's a deal.'

'Come on, then,' said Faolan. 'It's nearly supper, let's meet the others in the Great Hall.'

So we said goodbye to Sekhmet and headed downstairs, while she went the opposite way, towards Gryffindor Tower. The possibilities of what she had shown us that day suddenly came to me, and I was nearly overwhelmed by them. Sekhmet had gotten to Hogsmeade Village through that passageway – that meant that _we_ could too. I wondered if the teachers knew about that passageway. If not, it seemed we'd just found a very useful tool.


	9. Bats and Bludgers

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 9****: Bats and Bludgers**

The next few days were quiet. The five of us served our detentions (lines: 'I must not pummel other students'), Arcturus served several detentions helping Mr Hummel clean the entire castle, and we all got ready to enjoy the Halloween feast.

I remembered when I first came to Hogwarts, I was disappointed that there was no trick-or-treating. At eleven I guessed I was getting old for it, but I loved doing it…I loved going out among the houses, seeing all the scary decorations, seeing all the other kids' costumes, going door-to-door dressed up as different things…. Even in third year I felt that pang of regret; at least Hogwarts could have a costume party! _That_ would be fun.

Still, the Hogwarts Halloween feast was fun enough. The choir sang scary songs, and the decorations were really impressive: live bats fluttering above everything, jack-o-lanterns hovering every few feet in the air, black and purple banners hanging from the walls, and pumpkins bigger than I was tall in every corner, carved into scary, twisted shapes. I grinned up at everything as I walked into the Great Hall on Halloween night.

Peter wasn't at the Gryffindor table when I got there; neither was Arcturus. Faolan and Ke'koa looked annoyed. 'Where's Arcturus?' I asked as I sat down. I knew where Peter was; he was up front with the rest of the choir.

'Detention,' said Peter disgustedly. 'Old Melville said he couldn't come to the feast unless he finished polishing all the trophies in that trophy room…he's been at it all day.'

Sudden rage boiled in my brain, making my entire face feel hot, and I pounding a fist on the table. 'That miserable old cow!' It wasn't enough giving him way more days of detentions, but to make him miss the Halloween fest! That was just wrong. 'Is it me, or is she more haggy than normal this year? Arcturus shouldn't've got so much detention when the other Slytherins hardly got any. That's not on!'

'I know, mate,' said Ke'koa. 'You've seen her in Charms – she screams at one of us every other day. Maybe she's going through the change.'

I snickered, but Faolan frowned. 'She's not that old, is she? Thirty or so?'

Ke'koa chuckled; Faolan sometimes had a way of taking things very literally. 'Probably not,' he said. 'It was just the point. She's acting like she's got the bloody change. Er, so to speak.'

Faolan blinked, then started laughing. I cocked my head a bit, running Ke'koa's words through my head, and got it: 'bloody' change. 'That's gross,' I said, laughing.

'Well, she deserves it,' said Ke'koa darkly, glaring up at the staff table. She was sitting near the end, as usual, talking with Professor Forrester. Hummel the caretaker wasn't there; he was probably standing over Arcturus with a whip or something up in the trophy room.

'Yeah,' I said. 'She does. Hey…let's send her some Liquorice Snaps.'

'Oo, good idea!' agreed Ke'koa. 'We can order some from Honeydukes.'

Liquorice Snaps weren't my favourite sweet by far; for one, I couldn't stand liquorice or anything that tasted remotely like it. Second, those sweets were only for people who like pain! I tried one only once, not knowing what it was. I bit it, and it bit back! The stupid things have teeth, and they use them! And if you don't eat them fast enough, they'll come to life in your hand and bite your fingers. Definitely the sort of gift I would get someone I disliked.

'Though with our luck,' said Ke'koa, 'she likes those.'

She probably did. They were vicious, like her. 'Maybe she doesn't like Miller as Headmaster,' I said, looking at the new head of Hogwarts.

'Maybe,' said Faolan doubtfully. 'I dunno, though. They seem friendly enough whenever I see 'em. What do _you_ think of Miller?'

I shrugged. 'I don't really know him. I've maybe said two words to him.'

'He's all right,' said Ke'koa. 'I had him in Muggle Studies for a bit. He sorta keeps to himself, really. He's polite and fair and doesn't lose his temper easily. But he doesn't really talk with the students, either. Not like Blake.'

Faolan leaned forward so that he could speak quietly. 'The Prophet's not said a word about what really happened to Ryan, has it?' he asked quietly.

'I shook my head. 'No. No, not yet. When I get home for Christmas, I can talk to Mum then…maybe she has more information.'

We stopped talking then, because the choir had begun to sing, staring with 'Toil and Trouble', a Hogwarts tradition. Also one of my favourite songs. The feast appeared, and as everyone ate, the choir sang several creepy songs. When they were done, the students dispersed to their House tables, and Peter joined with us.

'Well done, mate!' said Faolan with a grin as my cousin sat down. 'As usual.'

'Thanks,' laughed Peter, grabbing himself a plate of food. 'But I'm starving, now. It's torture, having to stand up there and sing with the smells from this feast tempting me!'

'But you make the ultimate sacrifice for our entertainment,' I said. 'Thanks, mate. You're the best.'

Peter's mouth was full of roast potatoes, so he simply made a 'think nothing of it' gesture with his hand. When he was able to speak again, he asked if Arcturus was over with the Slytherins, and Faolan explained about Arcturus's detention.

Peter used a few choice words to describe Professor Melville. Peter rarely swore, but when he did, he was good at it. You wouldn't think so to look at him; he was usually so mild-mannered. 'So he's not gonna make it here at all?'

'I nearly didn't,' growled a voice behind us, and I turned around to look. Arcturus stood there, looking extremely vexed, and absolutely exhausted. I moved aside to give him room to sit, which he did, looking a little shaky. His arms were trembling, and he looked sweaty and tired.

'Lemme guess,' said Ke'koa. 'That git tried to keep you there all evening.'

'Right in one,' said Arcturus wearily, grabbing himself a chicken leg. 'Blimey I thought I was gonna be there all bloody night. Hummel didn't want to let me go, but he couldn't find anything else for me to clean, and I'd done a good enough job that he couldn't really complain. I've been working for hours.'

'We'll get Melville back,' I vowed, getting Arcturus a plate of food. He seemed a bit too tired to bother. 'And the twins. We'll figure something out.'

Arcturus nodded in vague appreciation and began to eat. Once he got some food in him, he perked up a little, and said he'd skipped lunch to get the bloody job done. 'I could eat an entire hippogriff.'

'You'll have to settle for cow,' said Faolan, nodding at the platter of steaks.

'Good enough,' said Arcturus, spearing one.

'Hey,' said Faolan suddenly. 'You've got your first Quidditch game tomorrow, haven't you? Tomorrow evening?'

I blinked, a sudden flutter in my stomach at the reminder. I _did_ have my first Quidditch game tomorrow! How could I have forgotten? Aldora had only been half-frantic about it all week as usual. 'Er, yeah,' I said nervously. 'I forgot. How could I forget?'

'It's Halloween,' said Faolan in when he obviously fancied a spooky voice. 'It's made you forget…soon you won't remember anything, not even your first name!'

'How's that different than normal?' asked Ke'koa, and everyone laughed, including me.

'You're one to talk,' I said, after he dodged my attempt to smack him upside the head from across the table. 'Who was it who could only stare blankly in Charms class the other day when Melville asked you what the Levitation Charm incantation was?'

'Not I,' said Ke'koa loftily, waving a pompous hand. 'You've mistaken me for someone else.'

'Oh, great,' said Arcturus with a grin. 'Now he's twins.'

'As if the Moors weren't enough,' chimed in Faolan.

'Now you've done it!' exclaimed Ke'koa in a fit of mock pique. 'You've grossly insulted my character, sir! A duel, to regain my honor! Dawn, tomorrow!'

By that time, the whole rest of us were laughing; no one else I'd ever met could pull off that smarmy line with a straight face. It wasn't until Faolan humbly apologized that Ke'koa kindly consented to call off the duel.

The rest of Halloween supper passed pleasantly enough, and dessert was as good as always. The ghosts of the castle glided in and did some formation flying, and a few of them acted out their deaths. The Gryffindor ghost, Sir Nicholas de-Mimsy Porpington re-enacted his botched beheading, to the disgust of several girls and Ke'koa, who decided it was safer to watch the opposite wall instead of the almost-beheading.

Finally, everyone began to leave the Great Halls in small groups, and my mind returned to Quidditch. I suddenly wished I hadn't eaten quite so much, because I was nervous about the match, and my stomach began doing uneasy somersaults. And with a full load of feast inside it, it wasn't any fun. 'Listen,' I said. 'I'm gonna go see Mr Jacey about an anti-nausea potion.'

'Bit too much Halloween cheer?' asked Ke'koa with a grin.

'Something like that,' I said, grimacing as my stomach made a gurgling sound and lurched to the side. 'Anyway, see you tomorrow, Arcturus…see the rest of you lot in a bit.'

'Take is easy, mate,' said Arcturus, as he headed down the stairs towards the dungeons.

Mr Jacey was nice enough when I went up for the potion, and even guessed why I was feeling queasy. 'Your first game tomorrow, isn't it, Calen?' he asked as he went to his cupboard for the vial.

'Yeah,' I said. 'I'm not afraid of getting hurt or anything, but I'm gonna be playing in front of loads of people. What if I mess up? What if I hit the Bludger at a teammate instead of the Moor twins?' At Jacey's upraised brow, I hastily added, 'Or the other Slytherins?'

Mr Jacey finally laughed, shaking his head and coming over with a little vial. 'You'll be fine, Calen,' he said. 'You get used to pre-match jitters. And once you're up there in the air, with the wind blowing your hair back from your face, your Beater's bat in your hand, you won't much notice the spectators. Just remember the love of the game.'

I looked at Mr Jacey with something like amazement as I slowly took the vial he gave me. 'Er…did you play Quidditch by any chance?' It never occurred to me that teachers were once students, too, and did the same activities we did.

'I did,' said Mr Jacey, obviously amused by my astonishment. 'I played Keeper from my fourth-year on to my seventh.'

I laughed, pleased at this revelation, and wondered how many other teachers had been Quidditch players. 'Wicked.' I took the tiny cork out of the vial and downed the contents, sighing with relief as my nausea vanished. 'What house did you play for?'

'Hufflepuff,' said Mr Jacey. He looked around furtively, as if someone might be listening, then added in an undertone, 'So I'll be rooting for Gryffindor tomorrow.'

The comment touched me, and I grinned at the Healer. 'Thanks…and don't worry, I won't tell anyone.' Teachers weren't supposed to take sides in sports, after all, though most did. Especially the heads of House. 'Well, thanks for the potion, Mr Jacey.'

'You're welcome. And if you come to me after the match with grievous injuries--!'

I held up my hands in a placating gesture. 'I won't break any bones, promise…but if you played Quidditch, how come you get so angry about injuries, anyway?'

Mr Jacey chuckled as he began nudging me towards the door. I took the hint and set the empty vial on a nearby table and headed out. 'Because my Healer instincts are stronger than my Quidditch instincts. Go on, you'll be wanting a good night's sleep.'

I had to admit it made sense. 'Night, Mr Jacey.' I gave him a wave as I headed down to corridor towards the nearest staircase. So My Jacey had played Quidditch! I'd have to ask Professor Blake if he had, also…I bet he had! I could see him as being a Chaser or Seeker.

When I got up to Gryffindor Tower, the Fat Lady was giving me a stern look. 'Bit late, aren't you? Cutting it a bit close?'

'What?' I said indignantly. 'I'm not late for curfew, am I?'

'No,' the Fat Lady admitted. 'But you're close.'

I rolled my eyes. 'I had to go to see Mr Jacey.' The Fat Lady sometimes got in moods and told people off for stupid things…least that's how I saw it. 'Alpha Orionis.'

Still glaring at me, the Fat Lady grudgingly opened the portrait hole for me and I climbed through, feeling exasperated. I wondered if portraits still had a time of the month.

When I told my friends Jacey had played Quidditch, most of them were surprised. Peter seemed not to be all that shocked. 'Well, the teachers were once students, too,' he said reasonably. 'It makes sense some of them must have played Quidditch.'

'I guess,' I said. 'I just never thought about it. Anyway…I'm gonna get some sleep. Tomorrow's classes are gonna be horrible to get through!'

'Hey!' called Rory from the bunk across the room. 'Good luck, Weasley!'

I grinned back at him. 'You too! But don't get hurt tomorrow. Jacey threatened me about that….'

Rory laughed, shaking his head. 'I'll keep that in mind…if you do your job tomorrow I won't have to worry about it.'

I snorted, sending a dismissive wave his way, and began dressing in my pyjamas. He had a point, though.

It was a while before I was able to get to sleep, even though the other boys were being quiet enough. I was both nervous and excited, which was never good for a good night's sleep, but at least I had a free class tomorrow morning. It was Runes for the third-years, which I didn't take.

--

I didn't focus very well the next day, still brooding about my imminent doom. The Quidditch match…yes, I was thinking about it as my imminent doom. I wasn't the only one, either. Everyone was hyped up or tense about the match.

As usual, the Slytherins and Gryffindors were rather at each other's throats. Several of Gryffindor's players were dodging hexes in the corridor, especially those who were new this year, like Rory, Sekhmet, and me. Cuthbert Moor aimed a Banishing Charm at me, knocking me head over heels, then ran before I could retaliate, the cowardly git.

At lunch, Sekhmet told me that she'd punched a Slytherin third-year boy who had tried to jinx her from behind, and Rory Brennan had had to dodge a hex from some Slytherin sixth-year girl who I think played Chaser. Aldora had been harassed all day, but she was far more used to it, and had ignored them all.

By suppertime, I was so nervous I could barely eat. I managed a bite of toast, but that was about it.

Arcturus, meanwhile, was predicting a spectacular win on Slytherin's part. When Ke'koa teased him about it, accusing him of treason, Arcturus only laughed. 'Friendships are friendships, my dear friend, but _this_ is Quidditch!' he proclaimed, and it was enough to pull me out of my anxious daze.

'Figures,' I snorted in amusement, though I wasn't too surprised. Arcturus was loyal to his house, if not most of its students. And that was fine with me. Too bad more Slytherins weren't like him.

'Though,' Arcturus added, 'If you can take out the Moor twins, I won't cry all night or anything.'

'All right,' said Ke'koa with a grin. '_Now_ I can forgive you.'

'Hey you lot!' called Aldora halfway through supper. She was standing up, waving her hand to get the attention of her team. 'Finish up then get your stuff!'

'This is it,' I said, my stomach twisting horribly. I stood up, trying not to look as terrified as I felt.

'Aw, you'll be fine,' said Faolan.

'Yeah,' said Peter. 'You'll have a huge cheering section.'

'We'll even hex some of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs into cheering for you,' Ke'koa added, and I laughed.

'Thanks…you're real mates,' I said. 'Well…wish me luck!'

'Good luck,' said Arcturus with a sly wink. 'You'll need it. I'll be nice when I commentate on you.'

'Thanks,' I said wryly as I left the table, following Aldora's tall figure out towards the Entrance Hall. The rest of the team had left their meals also, heading for Gryffindor Tower to change into their robes. I had taken to keeping my Beater's bat in the changing rooms, but like the others I preferred to keep my Quidditch clothing in my dorm, because it was usually freezing in the changing rooms. It was much nicer to dress in front of a blazing fire.

When I was appropriately clad, I grabbed my broom and joined the rest of the team in heading downstairs. I walked next to Sekhmet, who grinned excitedly; she didn't look a bit nervous, and I envied her. There was Carey Henderson, a sixth-year boy who'd gotten the third Chaser position; he'd been on the team the last two years. Aldora and Rory were the other two Chasers, and Rory was looking as nervous as I was. Hannah Henderson, our Keeper didn't seem too nervous, but then she was generally a really calm person. Evin Quigley, our Seeker, only looked focused and determined, but he'd played Seeker ever since I'd been at Hogwarts, and from what I'd heard had played it since he was in second year.

As we walked down the stairs and through the corridors, people shouted last bits of advice, encouragement, or spite, depending on what house they were in. I flipped the V at a few people, and Sekhmet stuck out her tongue at a few more.

The grounds were crispy, the dying grass crunching under our boots. The air was chilly and clear, with a bright sun overhead and a hint of winter in the wind. I was glad to gain the relative warmth of the changing room as we all piled in and sat on the benches in the main area, in front of the chalkboard Aldora used to outline our playing strategies.

'All right,' said Aldora. 'I know we've got a lot of new players this year, but we've put together a good, strong team. We play well in practice, we work well….' She glanced at the other two Chasers, since Chasers more than anyone needed good teamwork skills. 'Just…remember what we've practiced day in and day out and you should be fine.'

'We won't let you down, Aldora,' said Rory with a nervous grin. 'Slytherin won't know what hit them.'

'Sure they will,' said Sekhmet. 'A whole lot of Bludgers!'

Everyone laughed at that, and I rolled my eyes, grinning. 'Can't you give me some of your confidence?' I asked her. 'You've got more than any modest person needs.'

The rest of the team laughed again, and Sekhmet shrugged good-naturedly. At least she admitted she could be arrogant.

All of a sudden, I began hearing tromping feet overhead and knew that all the students were piling up into the stands. My heart turned over so that it was upside down, I would have sworn to it. And it didn't right itself. 'Great,' I muttered.

'All right,' said Aldora, the old, familiar glint of excitement in her eyes. Quidditch was nearly her entire life 'It's time, then. Let's show Slytherin what we're made of!'

There was a resounding, 'YEAH!' from the entire team, even me. Aldora had a way of inciting everyone to do their best, and stirring their enthusiasm. My heart was still upside down, but I was eager to get out there all the same. Yelling and whooping, we ran out of the locker rooms, ready for war.


	10. Secret Room

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 10****: Secret Room**

When Aldora led us out onto the pitch, and I got a good look upwards at the hundreds of people filling the stands, my guts filled with ice. I took a big breath, looking back down at the Slytherins instead, who were marching from the opposite side of the pitch. The Moors leered my way and I managed a smirk in return.

The referee for the broom sports was Arnell Eagleton, and also taught the first-year flying lessons. She was a woman of maybe forty years, with short, sand-blond hair and dark eyes. She was very much a no-nonsense woman, and didn't tolerate cheating in her Quidditch games. As we all met in the middle of the pitch, grasping our broomsticks, Eagleton looked us both over and nodded in approval. 'Captains, shake hands!'

The Slytherin captain was a fifth-year boy named Jake Anthony, who to be fair was a fairly decent one for being Slytherin. He seemed a bit grim and ruthless, but not slimy, like the Moors and their friends. He nodded with cold courtesy at Aldora as he shook her hand, and she returned the gesture.

'Good!' exclaimed Eagleton. 'Then mount your brooms!' As everyone got onto their broomsticks, I watched Eagleton walk over to the crate that contained all of the balls for the game, and opened it up. She took hold of the Quaffle, put her whistle in her mouth, and waited. My heart finally righted itself a second before the shrill sound of the whistle sounded in the stadium, and everyone kicked off hard from the ground.

'And the Quaffle is up!' called a very familiar voice, as Professor Eagleton hurled the Quaffle upwards. Acrturus was commenting, but I didn't dare look around to see where he was. Every nerve in my body sizzled as I took to the air, and to my astonishment, what Mr Jacey had said was true: I was no longer scared to death. I was up in the air doing what I loved, and it didn't matter if the whole world was looking at me.

Aldora snatched the Quaffle from under the nose of one of the Slytherin Chasers and took off towards the goalposts, pursued hotly by the Chaser and Cuthbert Moor. Gideon and I glared briefly at one another; he shook his bat in a threatening sort of way, I gave him a disgusted look, and then the Bludgers were released, and there was no more time for pleasantries.

I darted after one bludger, pursued hotly by Gideon Moor. I got there first, whacking the bludger so that it veered off away from Aldora, who still had the Quaffle. I grinned as she hurled the Quaffle to the right, to Rory Brennan, out of the grasp of the Slytherin Chaser who had been trying to grab it out of her hand.

Gideon let a rather rude swear word, and I grinned his way, zooming off after the other Bludger. There was a sharp crack, and then another, right on its heels; I looked up in time to see Sekhmet blasting the Bludger back towards the Beater that had hit it first at her. The stupid thing came pelting at me, but I couldn't get my bat up in time, and I had to roll right over on my broomstick to avoid it, my stomach swooping in alarm as I briefly hung upside down, the bludger missing my head by inches.

Righting myself hastily, I chased it, but this time, Gideon got there first, and I winced at the crack of the bat against the bludger, especially when it hit Rory Brennan in the shoulder, making him veer away from the goalposts.

'Ooh, that had to hurt!' called Arcturus's voice over the magical intercom. 'Chaser Rory Brennan takes a Bludger in the shoulder, hit by Gideon Moor, veers off to the side. Doesn't seem to be hurt, though! Aldora Hawkins passes the Quaffle to him – he pelts up the pitch! He goes for the goal…and he makes it! Slytherin Keeper Kevin Connolly fails to save the goal, and possession goes to Slytherin!'

I rather liked that Arcturus was there doing the commenting, so I didn't have to really watch everything to know what was going on. I could concentrate on those damned bludgers, which seemed somehow more vicious and fast now, in this game, than ever at practice.

The whole game was unlike any practice I'd ever had. People seemed to be flying all over the place, sometimes only a green or red blur in the sky. The bludgers were like cannonballs, hell-bent on knocking every single one of us off our brooms. Adrenaline throbbed through my body, putting my senses on super-alertness, every movement catching my eye, every sound clear and loud.

Gideon hit a bludger at Evin Quigley, which Sekhmet managed to deflect, and I cracked a Bludger at Cuthbert Moor, who had the Quaffle, but _it_ was deflected by the other Slytherin Beater. I dove downward, after a bludger that was going after Aldora again, and hit it back up at Cuthbert, cheering savagely as it hit, nearly knocking him off his broom. He didn't drop the Quaffle, but he nearly stopped in midair, letting Rory Brennan grab the Quaffle from his grasp.

Cuthbert snarled in pain, chasing after Rory, and Gideon shot me a look of pure hate. But I was on the most incredible thrill-high; this was way better than practice! Too bad we couldn't have games much more often!

Slytherin's chasers weren't too bad. Even Cuthbert had some skill…not as much as Aldora and the others in my opinion, but some. Still, Gryffindor was thirty points ahead when Arcturus's voice made everyone began looking wildly around the pitch.

'I think that was the Snitch!' he called. 'Yes…yes, both Seekers have spotted it – and off they go!'

It was Slytherin's clue to begin playing more viciously than ever. A bludger hit by Gideon came within inches of splitting Evin's skull open, and the other Beater, some muscle-bound bloke I didn't know, hit the other bludger at Aldora so hard that Sekhmet only barely got to it in time.

Evin Quigley, dove suddenly, and my heart leapt; had he caught sight of the Snitch again? I dove, too, wanting to keep the bludgers away from him, hissing in alarm at the familiar whoosh of the metal cannonball nearby. I looked wildly around, bringing my bat up in a badly-controlled swing, hitting the bludger only enough to deflect it about ten degrees; but it was enough. The bludger soared off away from Evin, going after Carey Henderson instead.

As Arcturus excitedly reported the action, Evin Quigley turned in midair, nearly bowling over Slytherin's Seeker, and made a sudden, lunging grab with his arm. I held my breath until Quigley gave a mighty cheer of success, holding his fist above his head, and I laughed as I saw the tiny, silvery wings of the Snitch fluttering from either side of his fist.

'And Gryffindor wins!' came Arcturus's voice over the pitch. 'It's too bad, really, but win they did, and by one hundred and eighty points!' I laughed as Arcturus raised his voice to make himself heard over the cheers and boos of the crowd. 'Final score: two hundred to twenty!'

'HA!' I crowed, as the rest of the Gryffindor team flew jubilantly towards Evn, who was flying around the pitch in a sort of victory lap. Mr Eagleton was flying around after the Bludgers, so he could secure them back into the case, and I looked round to the Moor twins.

Gideon and Cuthbert were hovering about ten feet above us, not too far away, and were glaring hatefully, looking identically ugly. I grinned their way and raised my bat in salute, and Cuthbert had to stop his brother flying at me with his Beater's bat. Nothing so unusual there; they were gits in the air, too. Then Sekhmet grabbed my arm and yanked me towards the group hug congregating in the middle of the field. Laughing, I let her drag me into the midst.

You haven't lived until you've experienced an airborne group hug. I was hugging people, trying not to be knocked off my broom, trying not to drop my bat, and hoping fervently that Mr Eagleton managed to round up the bludgers before they pelted into our midst. But we all got down to the ground in one piece, and I laughed as I ran along with them towards the locker rooms. What a fantastic first game!

The seven of us chattered happily about the game as we crowded into the dressing room, putting away equipment, and in some cases, changing into normal clothing. Sekhmet and I grinned at each other, clicked our bats hard together, then tossed them into the equipment trunk.

'Fantastic catch, Evin!' said Aldora, a big grin on her face.

'Yeah, you were cool,' said Rory with a laugh.

'Hey I wouldn't be much without you lot,' said Evin modestly, though he was grinning in a pleased sort of way. He still had the Snitch in his hand.

'Hey, lemme see that, would you?' I said curiously. I'd actually never held one before.

'Sure,' said Evin mischievously, and tossed the Snitch my way. Of course the Snitch didn't just soar into my hands; Snitches were bewitched to evade capture as long as possible, and it darted out of my reach and began zooming around the room.

'Hey!' I said indignantly, as the team burst into laughter. I laughed too, and began chasing the stupid thing all over the locker room to the amusement of my teammates, who began cheering and egging me on. I jumped onto benches, lunging for it; I ran across the room after it and made several awkward turns trying to keep up with the stupid thing.

Finally I mounted my broom and went after it that way in the cramped locker room…that was easier than clumsily clomping about, but I still couldn't catch the miserable little Snitch! Panting, I landed, and demanded that Evin catch it for me. Grinning, he obliged, mounting his broom and catching the Snitch way too fast.

'Showoff,' I muttered, but I was still smiling. I was sure it looked pretty stupid, after all! And I vowed never to play Seeker. Ever. 'Thanks,' I said as Evin handed the little ball to me. I took the Snitch, peering at it in fascination, feeling its very slight weight between my fingers. Its wings beat against my fingers, feather-touches on my skin. I wondered how Evin could see the damned thing, much less catch it.

'Pretty cool, huh?' said Evin, and I laughed.

'Pretty cool,' I agreed, handing it back.

'Let's get back to the castle,' said Rory with a grin. 'A victory party!'

'Yeah!' I agreed, laughing. Gryffindor always had a party when they won a Quidditch or Creaothceann match. It was probably a tradition dating back to the beginning of Hogwarts. In fact my friends and I were usually the ones who snuck down into the kitchens for cakes and other food.

The team all surged out of the locker rooms, only to be met by a couple dozen Gryffindors all wanting to escort us back to the castle and get the party started. Faolan, Ke'Koa, and Peter were there also, and I joined them, laughing and talking about the game. I couldn't resist telling them about all my awesome moves…well, I thought they were awesome, anyway. And nailing Cuthbert with that bludger had just made the whole thing that much better. Talk about getting out my aggressions! It was incredibly satisfying.

Faolan and Ke'koa volunteered to go to the kitchens for food and drink while the rest of us headed for the marble staircase that led up to the first floor. Professor Blake came in right behind us, and I grinned at him, waving.

'Congratulations!' said Blake to us, grinning. 'Fantastic game…well done, all of you! Our new players have proven themselves quite nicely, haven't they?'

I beamed happily as the group gave a sound of general agreement, and Rory slung his arm around my shoulders. 'Yeah, we're brilliant,' he agreed with mock arrogance, and Professor Blake laughed.

'No one ever said skill on a broomstick ever had anything to do with brilliance,' he said with a wink, and I laughed, clapping Rory on the shoulder.

'Yeah, it doesn't actually mean you have brains!' I agreed. Rory tried to look outraged, but he was in way too good a mood to manage it, and I knew how he felt. Not even the Moors or Melville could ruin my mood!

'Well, go on,' said Blake, chuckling. 'Go on and celebrate; you've earned it.'

So we did.

The party lasted all evening, greatly annoying those students who were trying to get some homework done. Most of them gave up and joined the party, while the remainder shot us dirty looks and headed into the dorms. Ke'koa and Faolan had gotten loads of cakes and sweets and food from the kitchens, along with pitchers of pumpkin juice and lime fizzies and other sweet drinks. The party probably would have gone on all night, if Professor Blake hadn't finally come up and told us we had to pack it in for the night.

I was glad, to tell the truth. I was still elated, but I was also exhausted; being a Beater is wearying work! My arms ached and my muscles might never forgive me. Still in my Quidditch robes, I stumbled up to the boys' dorms and flopped onto my four-poster bed.

'Aren't you even going to undress?' asked Ke'koa, sounding amused.

'No,' I said flatly, muffled by my pillow.

Ke'koa laughed and went about getting into his pyjamas. I heard the other boys getting ready for bed, but I didn't last long enough to see the lights being turned out.

When I woke, it seemed to be Saturday morning, and I felt sore but happy – a leftover from the game. I looked down at my Quidditch robes, which were rumpled and wrinkled from having slept in them all night. I looked over at the other beds to see that only Dragomir was still asleep; the others seemed to have gone already to breakfast. Shrugging, I got up and got dressed, wearing some comfortable jeans and a bright red jumper.

When I got down into the common room, there was no sign of my friends, but there were a few people there, hanging out. I waved at them and got a few waves or smiles in return, then headed out through the portrait hole.

'Congratulations, Calen!' said the Fat Lady, and I turned around to grin at her.

'Thanks!'

'I hear it was quite a good match,' she said a little wistfully. 'Wish I could have seen it.'

I blinked, peering at the Fat Lady, and cocked my head curiously. 'You can't watch Quidditch at all?'

'Well,' she said, 'there's a painting on the fifth floor of a Quidditch match, but that's from 1789.'

'Oh.' I felt somehow very sad that the Fat Lady couldn't watch our Quidditch matches – surely there was a way to manage it! I wondered if there was a window that faced the pitch where one of the portraits could be moved so she could visit and watch…or even just bring her portrait down to the pitch! 'Well…thanks. I hope you get to see a game sometime.'

The Fat Lady chuckled, giving me a warm smile. 'Someday I'll see one again.'

The Fat Lady and portraits were on my mind as I headed downstairs; I had never really much thought about wizarding portraits. They were just…part of the territory when you went to Hogwarts, and I knew that they appeared sometimes when someone died. I wasn't sure what determined whether a person became a portrait on his death, and I never really stopped to think what exactly a portrait _was_. Were they sentient? Were they truly the essence of the people who had died? Surely their spirits weren't trapped, else they'd be ghosts. Did they have a spirit? A mind? Could they die?

I was thinking so deeply about portraits that I walked right into something soft that made a surprised grunting sound. Blinking, I stepped back and looked up to see Professor Forrester standing there, looking mildly amused. 'Er, sorry, sir,' I said. 'I was kinda lost in thought.'

'So I noticed,' said Professor Forrester. 'Congratulations on the match yesterday. I didn't get a chance to watch it, but I heard it was an exciting one.'

'Definitely!' I said. 'It was my first game…I love playing Quidditch. It's nothing like practice!'

'I imagine not,' said Forrester. 'I never played it, myself. I was more into caring for animals and the like, as you might have noticed.' He winked and I sort of chuckled. I agreed that being the teacher for Care of Magical Creatures sort of demanded a love of animals. 'Listen, Weasley, I've been meaning to ask you something, I was wondering if you might know.'

I was really getting hungry, and wanted to get down to the Great Hall so I could get some breakfast, but I was also really curious as to what a teacher might have to ask _me_ about. Besides which it didn't seem entirely polite to tell a teacher 'no, I want to stuff my face first.' 'What's that, sir?'

'Well…you see I've heard in rumour about a…room. A room here in Hogwarts, that no one seems to know where it is.'

I blinked. I knew that rooms moved around a lot, and the staircases shifted around, and the like, but I didn't think there would be a room even the teachers didn't know about. But I was even more intrigued.

Professor Forrester continued. 'See, this room remains hidden…somewhere. And a person can only ever find it if they have great need for it. I know your family have gone to Hogwarts for several generations…I don't suppose you've ever heard of such a room?'

I hadn't…but it sounded incredibly interesting! 'No…I don't think I've ever heard of it,' I finally said, trying to think of all the rooms I have ever seen or heard of in Hogwarts. 'I mean there are secret passages and all…but I think Mr Hummel knows about all of those. Maybe he knows!'

But Forrester was shaking his head, looking very disappointed. 'No, I've asked him already, and I'd asked Professor Ryan before he died…and Professor Miller doesn't know, either. I don't even know if it exists; I just heard some of the students talking about it and was intrigued.'

I didn't blame him; I was intrigued by this room, too…if it existed. 'I suppose I could ask my parents,' I offered. 'They might know.'

'Would you?' asked Forrester, shaking his head a bit to get a wisp of his wild hair out of his face. 'I'd appreciate it, Weasley.'

'Sure, I can write to them tonight, see what they say. I know my father's grandfather is still alive…he might know something.'

Forrester gave me a grin, which made him look a little like some jungle savage, like Tarzan. 'Appreciate it. Well I'll let you get on to breakfast then. I imagine after yesterday's game you're more than ready for some food.' He grinned and moved on, leaving me with a lot more to think about than wizarding portraits.

Ten minutes later I was sitting at the Gryffindor table, scarfing down a delicious breakfast of biscuits and white gravy. Ke'koa and Faolan were there, but Arcturus had sat at the Slytherin table that morning as he sometimes did. I thought he might be sulking a bit about the Quidditch match. I thought Peter might be still in his dorms; he often slept in.

I told my friends about what Professor Forrester had asked me, wondering if either of them had ever heard of such a thing, but neither one had. Faolan was very interested as I knew he would be, and Ke'koa was really interested, too. 'A secret room?' he asked. 'That only appeared if someone really needs it? That's wicked! I wonder if it really exists.'

'You'd think something like that would be better known,' said Faolan. 'Unless…unless it's dangerous or something, anyway.'

'Or powerful!' said Ke'koa.

'Or both,' I added, the idea of this room becoming more and more attractive. 'I wonder what's in it that would only appear if you need it?'

'Maybe it was a wartime measure,' suggested Faolan. 'Maybe during the war with Voldemort?'

'Maybe,' I mused. 'It's kinda weird that Forrester was wondering about it, though. Said he'd heard some students talking about it, but they didn't know much more about it than when Forrester told me. You think anyone here knows where it is?'

'Doubtful, mate,' said Ke'koa. 'Not if even Mr Hummel doesn't know. He knows damn near every place in this castle.'

But did he? He didn't know about that passageway that Sekhmet showed us, I was almost sure of that. If there was a secret room, I would bet Hummel had no idea.

'What're we talking about?' asked a new voice.

I looked round to see my cousin walking towards us, looking half-awake. I laughed and scooted aside so that Peter could sit down, and he did, rubbing his eyes. 'Have some pumpkin juice,' I said. 'It's ice-cold – that'll wake you up.'

Peter took that advice and downed half a glass before blinking owlishly and rubbing his eyes again, looking for just a second like an overgrown baby, just waking up. Then his eyes opened a little more fully and looked like he might be beginning to function correctly.

Ke'oa told Peter about the secret room, and I half hoped that Peter would know what we were talking about it, but I was sorely disappointed. He was just as puzzled as the rest of us.

'No idea,' he said, getting himself a plate of eggs. 'But…Hogwarts, A History might know!'

Peter was more interested in history than most of us, and even researched things outside of class. (I liked history but not enough to pursue it outside the classroom!) He had this book called Hogwarts, A History, and it was all about the history of Hogwarts Castle…go figure. Still, he had a good idea! If it was in there….

'I'll ask Sekhmet, too,' I said. 'She knew about that one passageway.'

'She can help us wade through that huge, evil tome,' said Ke'koa with a grin, looking sideways at Peter.

'Hey,' said Peter, swallowing his mouthful so he could protest. 'It's a very interesting book! It's how I found out about that one passageway in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.'

'Well let's go have a look!' said Faolan, standing up and looking eager.

I laughed, grabbing his arm and tugging him back down onto the bench. 'Whoa, boy. Down Couldn't we eat, first?'

'Oh, I guess,' said Faolan, laughing, and sat down to wait patiently (mostly) for us to finish our breakfast. When everyone had finished, Faolan jumped up, grinned at us, and dashed for the door to the Entrance Hall. I laughed, shook my head, and waved for the others to go on ahead.

While the others headed for Gryffindor Tower, I looked down the table to find Sekhmet Stark, and finally spotted her at the opposite end of the table. But she looked like she was very much involved with her conversation with some first-year girl, so I let her be. We might not even find anything, anyway.

I caught up with my friends in the Gryffindor Common Room, where they'd waited for me. I explained that I had planned on getting Sekhmet in on the search, but that she was busy. 'She can't go in our dorms, anyway,' said Ke'koa.

I shrugged. 'I don't care. Not like anyone's gonna get naked or anything. No offence, you're my best mates, but we're not _that_ close. Blokes just aren't my type, anyway.'

Faolan snorted laughter and Peter gave me a disgusted look. 'Forget blokes, you're my _cousin!'_

That broke everyone up and we didn't stop laughing until we were in the dorms. I had to agree, it was a pretty revolting thought; especially when I realized that some pureblood families, especially in the past, actually did that. They married their cousins to keep within the pureblood families. And there weren't as many then as there were now. That purity could mean so much to some people was astonishing to me.

'Okay,' said Peter, kneeling by his bunk and pulling out a large, heavy book. 'Here it is. The single most comprehensive record of the history of this school.'

Ke'koa and I exchanged an exasperated look. Peter didn't do it often, but sometimes he lapsed into an almost-English that only teachers seemed to be able to comprehend.

'The biggest, longest, most detailed book,' Peter translated before we could ask, and I laughed.

'Thank you.' I took the book from Peter and set it down on my bed, climbing up next to it and sitting crosslegged so that I could page through. The others sort of crowded around to read, Faolan at the top, since the freak could read upside down. Whoever heard of someone who could read upside down, anyway? He could read backwards and sideways, too.

'This book is huge,' he complained. 'We'll never get through it.'

'It won't take long,' said Peter, standing at my side and sort of looking over my shoulder. 'I know it quite well…we can just page past the stuff that won't help us. I just wanna see if I can catch any kind of mention of it, or maybe its creation, or if it's had any significance in any major events at the school. That's the sort of thing that'll be in here.'

It sounded right to me. I began flipping pages slowly, letting Peter skim the words, stopping here and there when he spotted something that might be what we were looking for. Page after page after page…it felt like I was doing some particularly difficult essay for someone like Professor Melville.

'This is getting us nowhere,' groaned Faolan an hour later; he was not often the most patient person in the world when it come to searching for answers. 'I'll bet this bloody room doesn't even exist!'

'I bet it does,' said Peter. 'We just have to find it.'

'Well I'm done for now,' said Peter. 'My brain's gone on strike. See it, Calen, over there? It's got a little picket sign and it's marching up and down your school trunk.'

I sputtered laughter and gave Faolan a very strange look. I had a really weird image in my mind of a disembodied brain, picketing on top of my trunk. 'You're weird. Just…weird.'

We took a break from the volume to go outside and expend some energy with wizard tag, until it was time for lunch. After we ate, Ke'koa and Peter went off to fly broomsticks for a while, and Faolan and I went to see Artemis at her gamekeeper's cottage. We hadn't had a lot of time lately to visit with her, and I had missed hearing her stories and exasperating her with some of my own stories of rule-breaking. (She never told, but boy, she'd given us some major tellings-off sometimes! It was fun to say we'd done mad stuff just for her reaction.)

'So!' said Artemis, after we'd knocked on the door and she'd opened it up. 'I was beginning to wonder if you weren't my mates anymore. Where're the others of your mad gang?'

I snorted as I stepped inside her hut. 'Mad, that's rich coming from you. Ke'koa and Faolan are flying their brooms, and Arcturus is brooding.'

'Sulking, you mean,' said Faolan with a grin. 'He doesn't like when Slytherin loses at Quidditch.'

Artemis laughed, walking over to the stove sitting against one wall, and putting on a pot of tea. 'I imagine not. Have some cakes.' She nodded to a covered platter in the middle of the table, from which the smell of chocolate.

We didn't need to be told twice. Faolan and I sat down at Artemis's table, which was kind of old, but very well kept, and I lunged for the cover on the platter. There sat a little pile of cakes, smothered in frosting. 'Mm!' I exclaimed, claiming one for myself and taking a bite. 'Fanks!' I said through my mouthful.

Faolan rolled his eyes, but Artemis was used to my lack of etiquette and said nothing. 'Well, boys, what have you been up to? Besides beating Slytherin soundly at Quidditch, that is.' She winked; I knew she'd been a Gryffindor before, and was still loyal to that house.

'Not a lot,' I said. 'Looking for new secret passages. Oh…Professor Forrester asked me about a weird room…some secret room?' The look on Artemis's face told me she already knew about that.

'Yeah, he asked me, too,' she said, coming over with the hot pot of tea in one hand and three cups swinging by their handles in her other. 'I've heard of a room like that in my years here but couldn't tell you where it was. I would've liked to know, though, when I went here! I had plenty of things I needed hidden. I had to find more creative ways of keeping them from the teachers' eyes!'

That was pretty funny, listening to a staff member talk about her own lawless days at Hogwarts. 'I don't think I ever brought an illegal item,' I said. 'Well, except the Extendable Ears,' I admitted in a low voice. They were not specifically banned, but anything bought at WWW was blanket-banned at Hogwarts, and had been since the store was first opened in Diagon Alley. 'But I wouldn't have minded a hiding place! So…this room becomes anything you want it to?'

'That's what I hear,' said Artemis. 'Anything at all. If you desperately need a toilet, you've got it. Or at least something you can use as one. Need a hiding place? You've got one. I imagine it could equip itself with just about anything a person needed…you can see why I'd want such a thing as a kid!'

No kidding! I stared at Artemis, astonished. If that was all true, then this room could be the single greatest thing we could find at Hogwarts!

'D'you think it really exists?' asked Faolan.

Artemis thought for a few moments, before speaking. 'Well, for certain I think it existed at one time. Whether it still does…well, that's anyone's guess.'

There didn't seem to be anymore to say about this mysterious room, so we started talking about Quidditch, then wizarding bands, and other things like that. Artemis told us of one of the past gamekeepers, who was famous in his time, named Rubus Hagrid. He was a half-giant wizard who'd helped to fight against Voldemort. I wondered how a person could possibly mate with a giant…but decided I didn't want to know.

'My predecessor took the job after Hagrid died,' said Artemis, looking amused. I remember he told me once that he'd had to reduce the size of most things in here, and get a new bed. The old one was far too big and rather worn…the table and chairs were huge. Apparently Hagrid was far larger than a normal man.'

'Aw, I woulda kept it all big,' said Faolan. 'That'd be kinda neat.'

'Maybe,' said Artemis, standing up and stretching. 'But inconvenient. All right boys, it's nearing suppertime, and the remaining tea's cold. I'll see you in the Great Hall.'

I hadn't realized we'd spent so much time talking! But Artemis was a lot of fun to talk to. Faolan and I headed across the chilly ground into the castle, where we met up with Peter and Ke'koa. They were both red-faced from the cold wind, and grinning. Apparently they'd enjoyed themselves.

Faolan and I told them what we'd learned about the secret room from Artemis, and both of them were extremely intrigued.

'Talk about useful!' exclaimed Ke'koa.

'I know,' said Faolan, his eyes bright. 'I can't wait to find it…we'll find it, won't we?' he said. 'If it takes us till seventh year!'

'There's a word for what you've got, mate,' said Peter, shaking his head. At Faolan's puzzled look, Peter said, 'Obsession.'

Faolan looked mildly insulted, and I chuckled. 'Aw go on. Nothing wrong with that. His obsession's helped us loads of times!'

'I didn't say it was a bad thing then, did I?'

That was true, he hadn't. And I had to admit, Faolan was right: what Artemis had told us was way too tempting. That day marked the beginning of the Quest for the Secret Room.


	11. The Quest

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 11****: The Quest**

The Quest was not a quick one! By the next day, Arcturus had forgiven us for winning at Quidditch, and joined the Quest. Faolan single-mindedly pursued the mystery, but it wasn't exactly easy; we couldn't find anything about this weird room in 'Hogwarts, A History', none of the staff or students knew any more than we did already, and even the portraits didn't seem to know exactly what we were talking about. I met some old bloke up on the sixth floor who said he remembered such a room from when he had gone to Hogwarts (in 1765), but couldn't for the life of him remember where it was. He thought it might be on the fifth floor, but he could be mistaken.

Arcturus began asking the ghosts, and what he learned was the most infuriating of all. He'd found one who knew about the room, but he refused, point-blank, to tell him where it was! 'The Bloody Baron is a bloody _git,_' he huffed during lunch, when he related the story. 'He said that students shouldn't be using that room, and that it was a Hogwarts secret…creepy old bastard.'

I let a burst of laughter at that; the Bloody Baron _was_ creepy. He stared at you when you went by, his eyes wide and haunted, and his gaunt body was draped in ancient clothing with silvery stains all over it. I learned last year they were bloodstains. Even most of the Slytherins didn't like the Bloody Baron!

'Well, Nearly-Headless Nick wasn't too much more helpful,' I grumbled. 'He said he'd heard of it but didn't know where it was.'

That was around the end of November. It didn't help, either, that we were all so busy. What with clubs, practices, and classes, we all had our hands full. There was a duelling tournament at the end of the year to train with, too, and lesser matches during the year that would determine who was to compete in it. That left less time than I wanted to go room-hunting.

By the time Christmas rolled around, we'd discovered a new secret passage from the fifth floor to the first, but no secret room. We'd even asked random people in Hogsmeade a few days ago when we went for our second weekend there, with no luck.

'All right,' I said during supper on the last night before we were to take the Hogwarts Express home for Christmas. 'Let's each ask our parents around it…see what we can find. And when we get back we'll start the search again.'

'Sounds like a plan,' said Faolan.

'I'll peruse Hogwarts, A History,' promised Peter. We'd not even gotten the whole way through it yet. 'I only have a Potions essay during the holidays, I'll have loads of time.'

'Good,' I said. 'And I'll ask my parents.

'I'll ask my aunt,' said Arcturus in distaste. 'She's completely mad, if you ask me and I don't really like her, but she knows some weird things, and she seems to like me for some reason.'

'If you can stand her that long,' said Ke'koa, grinning.

'For the good of our noble Quest, I shall,' Arcturus said, and we laughed. We were all talking pretty lightly about it, but I was actually excited. It _was_ a quest, and I liked being on it. I just hoped that we'd be able to complete it.

The next day on the train, none of us talked about our Quest. We all had our tasks, and it wouldn't do much more good to talk about it anymore until one of us had learned something new. In fact, we didn't talk much at all. Peter and Arcturus were both half-asleep, Faolan seemed to be too restless to focus on any one thing, and Ke'koa was in a grouchy mood. I myself was extremely impatient the entire way, wishing the blinkin' train could just Apparate! So, given our collective mood, the most we did was to play some rounds if Exploding Snap. (I won one, and Ke'koa won the other.)

When we _finally_ arrived at the station, the five of us nearly trampled the rest of the students getting out of the train. I apologized to some little first-year girl whose foot I had trodden on, before finally extracting myself from the sliding door.

'Calen!' shrieked a small voice. I turned, grinned, as my littlest brother Kian ran at me and threw his arms around my legs.

I laughed, bent, and picked him up. 'Hey, you!' I said happily. 'I missed you!'

'I missed you, too!'

I laughed and set him down, looking up to see my family and Ke'koa's standing together on the platform. I waved at them and called, 'Wait a second!' I turned to my friends, who were still grouped nearby, and smiled at them. 'Well…guess I'll see you guys after the New Years. Have a good Christmas.'

'You too, mate,' said Faolan. I caught sight of Faolan's father and waved to him; we didn't know each other well, but I'd met Mr Farson before, and he was pretty nice. Mr Farson waved back.

'You don't wanna meet mine,' said Arcturus darkly. 'I don't even see them here…they probably forgot again.'

I frowned, watching Arcturus for a minute, then sighed. 'You know…next year we'll plan to have you over at our place for Christmas. You never enjoy being home with your family anyway.' Arcturus's parents weren't exactly abusive, but they didn't really care much one way or another about Arcturus. They provided what he needed to live, but he mostly stayed by himself when he was at home.

Arcturus smiled at me, a little shyly, which was very strange for him. 'I'd like that. Elsewise I think I'll just sign up next year to stay at Hogwarts. That'd be less work for my parents and more fun for me!'

I didn't like the idea of leaving him at Hogwarts, either, but it had to be better than at home. 'Well, write to me. You can complain about your family in your letters.'

Arcturus snorted. 'They'd be too heavy for the owls to carry. I'll save it for Hogwarts.'

I said goodbye to Arcturus and Faolan before grabbing Kian's hand and going back to where my parents and other brothers stood, talking to Ke'koa's mum and dad. Dad grinned and grabbed me up in a bear hug, nearly squeezing the breath out of me.

'Blimey, you trying to kill me, or what?' I demanded as Mum hugged me next.

'If he was trying, you'd be dead,' said Ke'koa's dad with a grin as I hugged my little brothers. Dad laughed, and I rolled my eyes.

'The Ilimas are coming over for Christmas dinner this year,' said Dad.

'Cool!' I liked that idea! 'I wonder if we could invite Arcturus, too. Faolan'll be with his family, but Arcturus…well I've told you about his family.' My brothers and parents had met all of my friends, and liked them though Ke'koa was the only one they really knew.

Mum and Dad exchanged a thoughtful look, and Dad finally said, 'We'll see. Maybe we'll contact his parents, see what they say.'

That was good enough for me! The Ilimas finally said goodbye, and headed for the enchanted barrier that led into the train station, while I turned to leave with my family. It'd be nice if Acrturus could just come over for dinner. Then I could give him the present I'd gotten him during our second Hogsmeade weekend.

As we all slipped through the barrier, I began babbling on about the school year and everything that had gone on. No one said much, accustomed to my way of relating news faster than the speed of sound. I told them about Quidditch and about the Moor twins (I always had at least one complaint about those creeps), and about the strange room that we were looking for.

To my disappointment, neither of my parents seemed to know what I was talking about, but were rather interested. 'If you manage to find it,' said Dad, 'let us know. I'm curious, now.'

'Oh, I will!' I said. 'Definitely! But first…I gotta find it.'

Dad and Mum actually had a car. It was a Muggle car…but both of them knew how to use it, and had actually taken the test Muggles have to take to be allowed to drive a car. They have to be licensed to drive cars, the way we have to be licensed to Apparate. Same concept, I guess. The Muggle cars aren't beast-driven, but they've got what Ke'koa calls 'engines'. And they can go very fast. And Muggles get killed in them a lot because they lose control or smash into another car. And I thought Apparition was dangerous! At least then the biggest danger is Splinching yourself.

So while I sat in the back with my brothers – Dad had used an Extension Charm to make the backseat big enough for us all – I asked Mum if she'd heard anything more about Professor Ryan.

Mum, who was driving, looked in the little mirror that's in the middle of the front window, and gave me a significant look. 'I haven't heard much, no,' she said, and I realized she didn't want to discuss it in front of the little'uns.

'Oh. Okay.' Kieran and Kian didn't seem to have noticed much, but Killian was giving me a searching look…he was getting old enough to realize when something was being kept from him, and he was probably going to ask me about it. I'd probably tell him, too. I didn't like it when adults refused to tell me something because _they_ thought I couldn't handle it. I'd always hated it, and they were always wrong. When I did find out (usually through eavesdropping) what they didn't want to tell me, it was never much of a big deal.

So, when Kieran asked me things, I never refused to tell him.

I actually didn't get my answer that night. I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed my family – which was normal, since Hogwarts has a way of keeping you busy – and I just spent the night being with them. I answered all my little brothers' questions, gave Kian the promised tickle torture, smiled when Kieran said he was glad to see me, he guessed (which coming from him was pretty nice), and played some games.

That night, Killian bunked with me, and I gladly shared my bed, making it bigger so that we'd both be comfortable. I loved Hogwarts, but was always glad to be home, too!

The next day was Christmas Eve. There was no snow on the ground, which annoyed me, but my brothers and I played outside for a while. We played tag and rode broomsticks. (Kian even had a kiddie broomstick, you know the kind that only goes a couple of feet off the ground, and not too fast.) I had a race with Kieran, and won, which he sulked about for a while, and even convinced Killian to take a few turns on my broomstick. He wasn't normally much of a flier.

During afternoon tea, I told my parents and brothers some of the stories I had forgotten to tell the night before, like my first day in Hogsmeade, and abut all the cool shops there. Kieran tried to get me to tell him what I got him for Christmas, but I refused. Of course thinking of my adventures at Hogwarts, I got to thinking again about Professor Ryan…and once we were finished eating and drinking, I cornered Mum in the kitchen and asked again.

'Oh, that's right,' said Mum, glancing out into the living room, where Dad was wrestling with my brothers. Mum smiled and made a little gesture with her head. 'Let's have a walk.'

'Okay, lemme grab my scarf.' I dashed into the living room and grabbed my scarf from the couch, where I'd tossed it after our morning romp, then joined Mum by the door. She waved at Dad, who nodded back, unable to answer much more than that, else he was going to get pounced my Kieran. I laughed quietly as I followed Mum out of the door.

'So…you and your friends have been dealing with some mysteries, it seems,' she said, looking faintly amused. I frowned a bit at her amusement and she gave me a sort of one-armed hug. 'Don't be offended, kiddo. I'm laughing because I remember being the same way…though I was more like your friend Faolan, by the sound of it. Rabid about mystery solving.'

I finally laughed a little, and nodded. 'I guess…it's not really funny, though. I mean…to us, it's serious.'

Mum's smile faded. 'Yes…it is serious,' she agreed. 'Well as to that room you were talking about, I couldn't help you. I might have heard about such a thing, but couldn't tell you anything about it. But as for Professor Ryan…well, that's another story.'

'You know more, then?' I asked eagerly. I knew that he'd been killed by a Muggle weapon, but Mum's department had done a lot more investigating since that day.

'We do,' said Mum. 'And none of us like it much. Victor Ryan was murdered…we can tell that much. The first indication was that it was a Muggle mob doing the killing…one of those increasingly numerous anti-magic folk who, the more they learn about our kind, the less they like us.'

'At first?' I asked, raising my eyebrows. A gust of wind blew my hair into my face and I brushed it away impatiently.

'Yes. There was no magical trace on him…no curse had been used. Someone hit him over the head with a club, which we found nearby, then stabbed him with some kind of short blade, a dagger or knife. Odd for Muggles to be so close to Hogsmeade, but possible. But…and this we've only found out recently. The only reason he was away from Hogwarts at all was that he got a letter by owl post at the castle, saying that there had been an emergency with his mother, and that he needed to head home immediately…his parents live in Hogsmeade, you see, out on the outskirts.'

'Owl post…but that wouldn't be a Muggle, would it?'

'No,' said Mum grimly as she and I walked around the corner.

The wind was obviously gusting from that direction, for as soon as we got around the large apartment building that sat on that corner, it began stinging our faces, and my eyes started watering. I swore and wrapped my scarf around my face.

'Watch your mouth,' Mum said mildly.

'Sorry. So…whoever did this was either a wizard…or at least _knows_ a wizard,' I said. 'Else how would they have access to a post owl?'

'Exactly. But other than that, we can't find any clues!' Here, Mum's voice became a lot more frustrated. 'No witnesses, no…no hairs left behind, no bits of clothing…whoever it was, was very, very careful, and left no trace of his – or their – identities. Which of course likely means that they're professionals. They do this often. And his parents had disappeared, also…can't find hide nor hair of them.'

She fell silent, but my mind was racing – a professional killer! A hit wizard? Why could anyone possible want to kill Professor Ryan so badly? 'I…I guess Professor Ryan didn't have any enemies?' I said, and I sounded a bit shaky. I _felt_ a bit shaky. This was someone I _knew_. It was unnerving, finding out that someone had deliberately murdered him. And so close to my school!

'None that we could find,' said Mum. 'Which has us all a bit uneasy. Usually only fairly powerful Dark wizards are so…skilled. And of course everyone gets a little nervous when Dark wizards are mentioned There have been so many who've done terrible damage to the United Kingdom.'

'But—that's all in the past!' I said. 'I mean, that stuff's all ancient history. That kinda thing couldn't happen now, could it? What with all the new stuff they've learned, and….'

But Mum had stopped walking, and was looking at me very seriously. 'Listen carefully, Calen,' she said. 'The chances are that you're probably right…it could very well just be a wizard with a grudge against Ryan. But there have been a lot of strange things going on lately, and the wizarding world…well, it's very much in a state of change. New laws, new ways of trying to live alongside Muggles…. It's a dangerous time. Never think that something horrible couldn't happen again.

I stared at her, unease making my stomach clench, like before my first Quidditch game, but worse. I was glad I hadn't eaten much at tea. 'I…I guess so,' I finally said.

I must have looked awfully alarmed, because Mum suddenly laughed and hugged me. 'There's no need to worry quite _that_ much,' she said. 'I just want you to know… There has been a lot of damage caused in the past by people not believing that such a thing could happen…even while it _was_ happening. So just be aware. It could make a big difference.'

That made me feel a lot better; it sort of put things in proportion. I still felt a bit paranoid, but my initial alarm was fading. 'Yeah…yeah that's a good idea.' Mum smiled, and we continued our walk. 'Killian saw something was up when I asked you in the car yesterday,' I said. 'He's gonna ask what I was talking about.'

Mum looked at me from the corner of her eyes. She didn't say anything for a few moments, and then asked, 'And will you tell him?'

'Yes,' I said, watching her for her reaction. She frowned, but didn't immediately veto the idea, so I felt fairly encouraged. 'I don't like when people tell me I'm too young to handle things. So I don't do it…I figure if he's old enough to notice and ask, he's old enough to know the truth…right?'

Mum thought about this for a few minutes—so long, in fact, that we were nearly to the next corner before she spoke again. 'You do have a point,' she said finally. 'He's ten…he'll be going to Hogwarts next year. And he's a clever boy. Clever enough not to make all the wrong assumptions. I do trust you'll be clever yourself, in telling him, and not give him nightmares for a week?'

She smirked a bit and I tried to look offended, but couldn't manage it. 'Of course, Mum, have a _little_ faith in me!'

Mum finally smiled. 'I do, my love. I do. I imagine your father won't be _too_ thrilled, but I'll talk with him.'

'Cool…thanks.' I personally though what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, but Mum didn't work that way. She much preferred things being out in the open. Information and understanding, and all that. It was a good idea, I supposed, but it could also be a pain in the arse.

We didn't speak again on the way home, only enjoyed the little stroll around the block. (Though I could have done without the sub-freezing temperatures.) When we got back inside, I was shivering a little bit, and I dumped my scarf and cloak on the couch so I could sit by the fire.

I didn't get much of a chance to sit, though. Dad was done wrestling with my brothers, so while Kian had gone up to his room, Kieran and Killian apparently weren't done being violent. Kieran attacked me from behind, tackling me and wrapping his arms around my neck. Killian giggled gleefully and pounced on me as I was struggling with the octopus that had suddenly latched onto my neck.

After my initial surprise, I laughed and wrestled them both to the floor. Dad was usually nice and let them win…but I was no such person! I finally got them pinned down, and I sat on Killian (as he was older I wasn't afraid I would squish him) and grabbed Kieran around the waist, holding on tightly, and tickling the hell out of him. I demanded capitulation, and finally got it, letting him go. He got to his feet, pointed a dramatic finger at me and said, 'You! Are! A! Cheater!' Then he stalked off. I couldn't stop laughing, and even Killian was giggling at Kieran's emphatic declaration.

'So,' I said, looking down at my rather gentler brother. 'Do I have to give you tickle-torture too, or shall you declare me the winner?'

'Okay, okay,' he said, laughing. 'You're the winner! Lemme up…you're gonna make me all flat.'

'Flat?' I repeated indignantly. 'I'm not that fat, you little—'

I removed myself from his torso and gave him a poke in the side. Killian giggled, then suddenly hugged me. 'I'm glad you're my brother,' he said.

I smiled and hugged the kid back. 'Yeah, me too.' Killian and Kian had one thing in common; they both had the sudden tendency to show their affection, which was a very endearing trait. I just hoed it wouldn't get Killian mercilessly made fun of in school. Of course anyone who messed with him would have to deal with my friends and me in a very direct manner, but still.

'If the battle is over,' said my father mildly from the doorway, 'who wants to go and pick out our tree for this year?'

Killian and I both enthusiastically agreed, and the two little ones were obviously not far, either, because I heard an excited cheer from their direction, too. Killian and I looked at each other and laughed.

Getting the tree was a favourite part of Christmas for me, and the rest of my family, too. There was a large swatch of forest up near the northern border of England where we'd go to hunt down our Christmas tree. There was a Scottish bloke up there who owned hundreds of acres of woodland, and he always allowed so many people to come in and take a tree, to help thin out the forest. He made good money, too. He was a Muggle, but that was all right; he was nice enough, and it wasn't as if he could tell we didn't actually use the axes and saws we brought with us every year.

I didn't know the man's real name, but everyone called him Hunter –I wasn't sure why. He knew us by sight, and greeted us warmly as we all trooped into his little cabin on the edge of his lands, where he met his customers; it always reminded me of Artemis's hut. He had his fire blazing, which was a welcome respite from the winds. We'd used Side-Along Apparition to get here (Kian was a little sniffly about it; he didn't like Apparition at all), but we'd had to appear about a mile away from the cabin. We couldn't chance being seen by any Muggles. By the time we hiked here, dressed in Muggle clothes for the day, we were all freezing. Muggle coats just weren't as good as a nice, thick, winter cloak.

'Afternoon,' said Dad to Hunter once we were all inside.

'Afternoon'!' said Hunter, a big, beefy man with longish black hair, usually in a braid or a ponytail, and a neatly trimmed beard and moustache. He nodded down to Kian, who smiled up at him. 'The bairn's getting' big, isn't he? How're ye today, lad?'

'Good!' said Kian. 'We're going to get a huge tree.'

My dad laughed, and Hunter grinned at Kian. 'Well then, I'll not keep ye, lad! Ye'll need all the time ye can get to find yer tree. Make sure yer daddy here gets the perfect one.'

Kian giggled and nodded his agreement, and Dad ruffled his hair. 'Well I imagine we'll be a couple, three hours,' said Dad. 'We'll see you when we get back, then.'

'Enjoy!' said Hunter, waving us towards the back door of his cabin, which led onto his lands. Kieran let out a whoop and bounded into the trees, and I rolled my eyes. I thought_ I_ was hyper! I chased after him to make sure he didn't get himself lost; he didn't always think before he acted.

It was an enjoyable afternoon. I spent as much time gleefully chasing my little brothers all over the place as I did helping Mum and Dad find a nice tree for our living room. We ended up getting a fair-sized red cedar tree, which smelled great. Dad looked furtively around to make sure no Muggles were about before taking out his wand and chopping the tree down with a well-placed Severing Charm.

Kieran declared confidently that he would carry it back to the cabin for us, which made all of us laugh, me hardest of all. Grinning, Dad stepped back and invited Kieran to try. I watched in amusement as Kieran grabbed the tree by its severed trunk and gave it a mighty tug. I snickered as he frowned, obviously not pleased with the tree's lack of cooperation, and tried again.

Smiling impishly, Dad aimed his wand at the tree again, and I realized a moment later that he had enchanted the tree to be a good deal lighter. Kieran's second tug moved the tree easily a meter, and Kieran fell onto his face, looking both surprised and pleased. He didn't seem to be surprised at the tree's sudden lack of weight, and he happily put the trunk up on his shoulder and began dragging the tree back the way we had come.

I was shaking in silent laughter as I began to follow, Killian was smirking, and Kian looked a little confused. Mum tried to give Dad a disapproving look, but the situation was too funny for her to manage it.

Before we got too close to the cabin, Dad began gradually increasing the weight of the tree until Kieran finally stopped, panting for breath. 'Okay,' he said. 'I got it this far. You can carry it now, Dad.' And with that, he strode on, satisfied that he'd done his duty for the day. I think I busted an intestine trying not to guffaw right out loud.

'That kid needs an ego check,' I said as Dad chuckled and picked up the tree.

When we got back to the cabin, we were all a bit chilly, but happy. Dad paid Hunter for the tree, using the Muggle pounds instead of Galleons. (Mum had to help him with the Muggle money.) Hunter convinced us to stick around for some tea, which we did, but by then it was getting close to suppertime.

'Ye enjoy that tree,' he told us with a grin as we were ready to leave.

'Oh we will, sir,' said Dad. 'And we'll see you next year!'

I waved back at Hunter as we left, heading for the spot we'd Apparated in at, so we could Apparate out again. Dad said that with the tree, we were gonna have to make two trips to get back home. I said that Kieran and I could stay here while he and Mum took the tree and the other two. Kieran liked creepy stuff almost as much as I did, and the wooded are was very dark and spooky by that time of night.

Mum and Dad agreed willingly enough; it wasn't as if it was a dangerous area, after all. There were only gone a few moments, and I spent the time trying to creep Kieran out. I thought I was succeeding pretty well, but apparently I was creeping myself out as well, because when Dad came back with the sudden CRACK of Apparition, both of us screamed in alarm, then started laughing.

Dad was taken aback at first, then joined in laughing. 'I think you're quite ready to get back home,' he said, and we didn't argue.

--

The tree was a nice one. Any damage done by Kieran's hauling it along the ground for who knew how long was fixed easily enough once we got it into our living room. I helped Dad get the tree set up straight in its base, and we all stood back to admire it. It was already filling the living room with its sweet cedar smell.

'Come help me get the Christmas things from the attic, will you, Calen?' Dad asked.

'Sure.'

While my brothers watched Mum clean up all the needles we'd scattered all over the carpet, I followed Dad up to the first floor, where we had the stairs to the attic at the end of the hallway. I'd been afraid of the attic when I was little, imagining all sorts of evil, scary creatures lurking in the corners. A remnant of that childhood fear persisted to that day, but once I got older, I began liking the fear, rather than hating it. Whenever I wanted to creep myself out, I'd go up to the attic and huddle in the corner, watching the shadows creep along the walls and ceiling.

The attic wasn't quite so creepy in the daylight. Dad lit the lamps, and I looked around at all the familiar crates and trunks that sat on shelves or stacked on the floor. We headed for the near-left corner, where we kept all of our tree decorations. Mum and Dad had already gotten all the Christmas lights fixed on the house, and the decorations that Mum liked to put in the rooms and windows. But we always saved the tree for Christmas Eve.

'Ah, here we go,' said Dad. 'Take this one, will you?'

I stepped forward and grabbed the box, stepping out of the way while Dad grabbed another. 'What's _in_ all these, anyway?' I asked. I'd snooped here and there before, but had never really explored the place. I realized for the first time that I had no real clue what was in most of those trunks.

'Well, a lot of them are you boys' baby things,' said Dad as we carefully went back down the stairs towards the living room. 'Some are your mum's and my things from our youth…I think there's a box with my own baby things in it. We've got several boxes from grandma and grandpa… Some are heirlooms from the various generations of Weasleys. There's a lot of family history up there.'

For a moment I only stared at Dad's back—all of _that_ cool stuff was up there and I'd never explored it? How'd I manage that? 'That's brilliant…I'm gonna come up here and look through everything!'

Dad chuckled. 'Go ahead,' he said. 'Just put stuff away once you've finished looking through it. Leave a mess up there and I'll have to tan your hide.' He turned around and winked, and I rolled my eyes. I hadn't gotten spanked since I was about five, and I told Dad he wasn't big enough to tan my hide.

That made him laugh even harder. 'And you talk about your brother's ego,' he said as we walked into the living room with our burdens. I set the box down near the tree, and Kieran and Killian came over to peer inside it.

'We'll get started while you two get the rest of the decorations,' said Mum. 'If you don't mind?'

'Nah, we don't mind,' I said, giving Dad a mischievous glance. 'If Dad can handle it, anyway. He's not a kid anymore, after all.'

Dad made an indignant spluttering sound and took a swipe at me, but I dodged, grinning, and sprinted from the room. I heard Dad mutter a word he didn't normally say in front of the little kids, and I heard him run after me. Kieran shrieked laughter, and Kian giggled as Dad chased me, finally catching me in the upstairs hallway and giving me a good smack upside the head. I yelled in protest, laughing as I brushed my hair back out of my face.

'I'm reporting you to the authorities,' I threatened, and Dad snorted.

'You do that,' he said, shaking his head. 'And they'll say you had that coming.'

'Probably so,' I agreed amiably enough. I glanced toward three smallish figures standing at the end of the hall, watching gleefully, and I made as if to run after them. 'Go on, you brats, or you'll get what I got!'

Giggling, they ran back down the stairs.

We managed to get the rest of the decorations down without too much bloodshed, and we spent the rest of the evening decorating the tree, having Christmas Eve supper, and talking about Christmas. After dinner, Dad made hot chocolate, and we all sat in the living room with our steaming mugs, watching the lights on the tree. I don't think I ever felt as content as I did during Christmastime, when I could sit and watch the tree lights all night.

By the time I was ready to go to bed, I was pleasantly tired. I went up to my room, expecting that Killian would be asleep, but when I got there, he was sitting up in my bed, looking as if he'd waited for me. 'What's up?' I asked, undressing so I could get into my pyjamas.

'I wanted to know about that thing you asked Mum about,' he said at once. 'In the car? I saw her look….'

I smirked as I pulled on my pyjama trousers, then turned around to face Killian, nodding slowly. 'I thought you might've noticed that.'

'You're gonna tell me, right?' He seemed anxious about this, as if I might suddenly decide not to tell him anything. I _always_ told him what he wanted to know, but he was always worried next time I'd decide not to…. He could be pretty insecure.

'Of course I am,' I said, mild rebuke in my voice. 'Since when have I not?'

He smiled a little sheepishly and shrugged. 'I dunno…I just wanted to ask.'

I climbed into bed, pulling up my top, then pulled my blanked up onto my leg. 'Mum knows I'm gonna tell you too, so she doesn't mind. Just, if you have questions or anything, ask me, okay? Like always.'

'I will,' promised Killian eagerly.

'All right. Well, it's about Professor Ryan…he was my Headmaster at Hogwarts.'

Killian frowned uncertainly. ''Was'?'

I sighed. 'Yeah…'was.' See, he went missing all of a sudden…. No one knew where he was…but Mum wrote to me one night and told me what happened. Professor Ryan…well, he's dead.'

I watched Killian carefully as I told him that, to gauge his reaction. His eyes widened and he gasped in a little breath. 'Dead?' he whispered. 'But...how? What happened?'

All right, he wanted to know how it happened…that meant he wasn't too scared yet, which was good. I decided not to make it too graphic…there was need to go into detail, after all. I explained about how he'd been killed by somebody, probably someone that didn't like him. (Killian expressed great indignation that someone would kill a person just because he didn't like them, and I agreed.)

'The weird thing is,' I said, 'that no one knows who could've done it. Mum's been trying to figure it out at her job. And most people don't know he's dead. The Prophet hasn't even reported it.'

At that, Killian blinked. 'Why?'

'I dunno,' I said. 'That's a really good question. But not even the papers are reporting it, so you've got to keep it to yourself.' Killian nodded solemnly and promised, and I eyed him for a moment. 'You okay with this?'

'Sure,' he said with a little shrug. 'I mean…I'm sorry he's dead. But…it's not scaring me or anything.'

I smiled a bit and settled down into bed. 'Good…I'm glad.' I closed my eyes thinking it actually made sense that he wasn't as unnerved about it as I was. He never met Professor Ryan. Hearing about a death, even a murder, was never as intimidating if it was a stranger who was killed.


	12. Christmas

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 12****: Christmas**

I woke up next morning to Dad's voice, calling from the doorway. 'Time to wake up, lazybones—I need you to watch your brothers for an hour or so.'

I opened my eyes a crack to see my dad standing there looking entirely too cheerful. 'Go away.'

I closed my eyes again, and Dad laughed. He was used to my occasional forays into thorough morning grouchiness. I yelled sleepily in protest as he yanked the covers off of me and launched a furious tickle attack on me. I started hollering in outrage as I squirmed, trying to get away from him, and I heard Killian wake up in surprise and slide off the bed to avoid the wrestling match. I wasn't normally that ticklish, but my dad always knew just where to tweak – it was infuriating.

'I'M UP I'M UP!' I finally yelled, feeling entirely surly. My hair was all over the place as I got out of bed and I tried to get it all out of my face. Killian was standing off to one side looking half-awake but amused. 'I am too old to be tickled!'

Dad apparently thought that was amusing. 'Of course you're not,' he said. 'Anyone that's ticklish is fair game.' He winked and I fumed. 'A parent's privilege, let's say…come on, we've got breakfast on the table.'

I scowled thunderously as I finally got all my hair behind me, and could see properly again. Dad left the room and Killian slipped out after, obviously not wanting me to see his great amusement. Parents could be an absolute bane sometimes.

By the time I had washed up a bit and brushed me teeth, I felt a bit more like a human being, so that I was able to do something other than growl unintelligibly when I got to the breakfast table. 'So how come I'm watching the boys?' I asked once I had a bit of food in me. I wasn't looking forward to it; all three of them looked entirely too fidgety.

'Well, we're going over to pick up Arcturus,' said Mum, and my mood lifted a little.

'Yeah? His parents said he could come over?'

'They did,' said Dad, frowning. 'They said if we came and got him, since they were too busy to bother bringing him over themselves. Not the nicest people, certainly.'

'Told you,' I said, shaking my head. I didn't get how anyone could be so uncaring about their own kid. 'Guess it could be worse, but still.'

'Yes. Still. So he'll be staying over until you boys go back to Hogwarts.'

That made my mood even better! 'Brilliant! That way he'll actually _enjoy_ Christmas. I wonder if his parents even give him presents.' It wasn't something I'd ever bothered to ask him before; we all exchanged presents at Christmas time – I usually used my allowance and whatever spending money I earn by doing odd jobs during the summer holidays. And my parents usually gave me a few Galleons to get presents for people. But I have no clue if Arcturus's family ever got him anything.

'Well, we'll be bringing him over after breakfast,' said Dad.

'Awww, we have to wait THAT long before we open presents?' exclaimed Kieran.

I blinked…oh yeah! It _was_ Christmas! I didn't think I'd ever woken up on Christmas and not realized it was…I blamed Dad for waking me up like he did. At least I was awake, now!

'You'll survive,' said Mum mildly. 'And you _behave_ for your brother, you understand?'

Kieran scowled, but grudgingly agreed. I swore that kid could be the biggest brat in the United Kingdom. Maybe even in all of Europe.

It was clear Mum and Dad had begun eating before Dad came to wake me, because they were both nearly finished. I was only half done with my meal before Mum stood up and stretched. 'Well, I suppose we should head off, then. You've got their address, haven't you?'

'Yes, it's in my pocket,' said Dad, patting the breast pocket of his robes. 'It's in a wizarding neighbourhood, so we can Apparate onto the block.'

'Arcturus has a broom, right?' said Dad. 'We'll be flying home, as I don't want to try Side-Along Apparating him. I don't know how comfortable he'd be with that.'

'Sure, he's got a broom…but I dunno if he brought it with him from Hogwarts. If not, take mine, just in case; he can use that.'

'Dad nodded in approval. 'Good idea—I'll grab that from your room. All right then, we're off. And you three behave…we'll be back in an hour, hour and a half, tops.'

I nodded as Dad trotted upstairs to grab my broomstick, then came back down to join Mum at the front door. The two of them Disapparated, and I turned to my brothers. Kian was taking the whole thing rather in stride, interested for the time being in his meal. Kieran was looking mutinous, but wasn't being a hellion just yet.

'Do I know Arcturus?' asked Killian.

It was a fair question; Arcturus has visited a couple of times, but not often; his family weren't the most social types. At least not with the likes of us. Killian knew Peter and Ke'koa far better…even Faolan had been over more often. 'You've met him a couple of times. He's got long, black hair. He's that one who I was taking to on the platform a few days ago.'

Killian's expression lit in recognition. 'I remember him! I like him. He's kind of creepy, but I still like him.'

'I like creepy,' said Kieran. He looked at me, a shrewd sort of look on his face, and asked, 'What'll you do to me if I act out?'

'Take back the cool present I got for you,' I said immediately, taking a bite of my eggs and pretending as if it wasn't a big deal to me. 'Then I'll tell Mum that you tried to ruin Christmas.'

I gave him a sidelong look and was pleased to see he was scowling. That normally wasn't a good sign, but in this case it was because he believed my threat and was annoyed about it. He wasn't about to risk me not giving him the present I got, nor telling Mum he misbehaved on Christmas. And he knew full well that I always made good on my threats. It was the only reason that I could get the little creep to behave when I had to watch him. I loved all my brothers, but Kieran could really be a prat sometimes.

I looked up at him, wondering suddenly just _why_ he did that. 'So what's your problem, anyway?' I said. 'How come I have to threaten you so you don't act like a git? Do you like me to be upset and angry all the time because of you?'

Kieran's scowl deepened, but he didn't answer, and I didn't push it. It was probably a stupid question, anyway. I wasn't entirely sure Kieran always did it on purpose. I tried thinking, myself, why he was like that. It couldn't be because he was a middle brother…so was Killian, and he was shy and sweet. Did he just like to fight? If so, that it was rubbish. Because it sure wasn't any fun for us. It wasn't like Mum and Dad ignored him, anyway! And if Killian and Kian did, it was because Kieran was always so mean to them.

I sighed, no longer feeling all that hungry, and left the rest of my breakfast.

'Can I have your bacon?' Kian asked interestedly.

'Sure,' I said. 'Have at it.' Kian snagged my bacon and I gathered my plates and glass and put them in the sink – I wished I could use magic outside of school.

Kian, Kieran, and Killian were amazingly quiet in the hour my parents were gone. Kian was bouncing excitedly around, but he wasn't being loud. Killian was normally pretty quiet, and Kieran…well, he just sat on the couch and gazed rather morosely at the tree. As I wasn't feeling too loud myself, maybe our silence was affecting Kian, too. I was very glad when my parents finally came home, heralded by footfalls outside, and the opening of the door.

'It's snowing!' my dad exclaimed as he came in, and as I looked up, I saw that it was true. Fat flakes were falling outside the windows and in through the open door. It looked like it had been snowing for a while, too, which cheered me up some. I liked the snow.

Mum and Arcturus came through the door next, Arcturus holding my broom and his both in his hands; obviously he _had_ brought his home. He looked a little uncomfortable as he stomped the snow off his boots and came in, then stepped aside so his school trunk could float in, courtesy of Mum's levitation charm.

'Hey!' I exclaimed, grinning. 'Well come in here, then!'

Arcturus broke into a grin as he saw me, and came over, handing me my broom. 'Thanks,' he said. 'But I always bring my stuff home. If I don't, some Slytherin berk'll wreck it.'

I took my broom and set it in the corner. 'I didn't think of that. Well, these're my little brothers. Kieran, Kian, and Killian.'

Kian waved cheerfully, and Kieran gave a sullen sort of wave. Killian mumbled a 'hi' and I sighed softly.

'Er, I hope I haven't said anything,' said Arcturus.

'No,' I said quietly. 'He's just a bit shy. He'll warm up to you. Well come on, you can sleep in my room, we can drag out the camp bed. I'll sleep on that if you want mine.'

Arcturus waved a dismissive hand. 'Aw, I don't need a bed,' he said. 'I can just kip on the floor – I've brought my sleeping bag.'

'Well, if you say so,' I said. Mum had dropped the levitation charm on Arcturus's trunk once it was inside, so I helped him carry it upstairs. 'And I can't wait until I can use magic outside of school. Things like this'll be a whole lot easier!'

'You said it,' Arcturus agreed as we struggled into my room. We set the trunk down at the end of my bed, where mine usually went, and he set his broomstick down next to it. 'Hey…thanks for inviting me and all. It's a lot nicer here than home!'

'Don't mention it,' I said. 'I hated thinking about you getting ignored all holiday.'

I probably would have said more, except a call from downstairs cut things short. 'Calen! You two better get down here quick – if the boys have to wait much longer for their gifts, there's gonna be trouble!'

Arcturus and I looked at one another and burst into laughter. 'Well, come on! It's not like I'm not getting any presents, either!'

I was beginning to feel excited again as we tromped downstairs.

'I have your gift here, too…I woulda just given it when we got back to school, like normal, but since you're here….' The five of us always gave our gifts when we got back to school, not before. That sort of gave us something to look forward to after Christmas itself, when the reality of school, winter, and a long, boring January began to set in.

'You won't hear me complain,' said Arcturus. 'I've got yours, too.'

'About time,' said Dad as we entered the living room, even though we'd not taken long. They'd lit a roaring fire in the grate, and the Christmas tree lights were sparkling, and an incredible feeling of goodwill settled on me. It made me feel warmer than the fire did, and for the time being I forgot about Kieran's difficulty.

Arcturus sat on the couch, and Kian came over and sat on his lap. Arcturus blinked, looking very much taken aback, and I stifled a laugh. Kian just loved everyone, and wasn't shy about showing it. Arcturus, on the other hand, was very much unused to affection. I watched for a moment to make sure Arcturus wasn't truly uncomfortable, but finally he smiled, looking touched, and put an around Kian. I could've kissed the kid…what a way to make Arcturus feel at ease.

'Which first, which first?' asked Kieran, bouncing up and down. The prospect of presents obviously had chased off his bad moon as easily as it had chased off mine.

'I think we should let Kian open one first,' said Dad. 'He's littlest, after all. That's polite, isn't it?'

Kieran gave a great sigh, but didn't protest. After all, if it went from the smallest, up, that meant he'd be next. Kian smiled excitedly, then looked up at Arcturus. 'Which one should I open?'

'Er,' said Arcturus, blinking a little. 'Which ones're yours?'

'Here.' Kian slipped down off of Arcturus's lap and tugged on his sleeve until he knelt down onto the floor. Kian showed him the pile of presents that had Kian's name on them; we usually put the presents in sections according to who they belonged to. It made things a little less chaotic come Christmas morning.

'Hurry up, you slowpoke,' I said, giving Kian a wink. 'Or we'll never get to ours!'

Kian giggled, and stuck out his tongue.

'This one,' Arcturus decided, pointing at one with emerald green wrapping paper. 'It's my favourite colour.'

'Okay!' Taking the one Arcturus suggested, Kian opened it…it was a magical Hangman game from our Auntie Carrie; Kian was learning to read, so that was a good game for him. Kieran was next, and he nearly dived into his pile, picking out the biggest one, which was a miniature version of the Hogwarts Express; it even billowed steam and made sound. Killian opened an antique clock that was owned in the 1970s by one of our ancestors; he was fascinated by old machines, especially timepieces, and liked to collect them.

I grinned at Killian as he set about examining the clock, figuring out how it ran, as I cast my eyes to the pile of presents with my name on them. I chose one about the size of a magazine, and felt rather like one, too. I was intrigued by it. When I opened the present, I gaped – it was a copy of Quidditch Today from June, but that wasn't the half of it. It was _signed_. It was signed by Ryker Carridan, one of my favourite Quidditch players, a Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps.

'Blimey, is this autograph real?'

Mum chuckled. 'It is. I had the good fortune to meet Mr Carridan when I visited the Department of Magical Games and Sports this summer when they were organizing the All-England Cup. I grabbed up the magazine and asked if he wouldn't mind signing it for my son, and he was happy enough to do it.'

I laughed in amazement. 'That's…that's great! Thanks, Mum!' I got up and hugged her, still with the magazine in my hand. There was even a picture of a speeding bludger on the cover, which was appropriate.

'Who next?' asked Killian.

'I think we should let Arcturus open a present,' said Dad, and tossed my friend a present. But it wasn't mine…had Mum and Dad gotten him something? Whatever it was, it was heavy, as it made a solid thunk with Arcturus caught it.

Arcturus looked just as surprised. 'Calen, is this--?'

'No,' I said, looking at Dad.

Dad smiled. 'It's from us, Arcturus. I had seen it once when we visited Diagon Alley, and based on what Calen's told us about you, I thought of it when Calen asked if you spend Christmas with us. I hope you like it.'

Arcturus actually blushed a little, not something I had ever seen before. 'Well…thanks,' he said, interestedly opening the package. It was a book of some sort, and I peered over Arcturus's shoulder to have a look at it. The title read, _Guide to Duelling: History, Technique, and Stories._

'That's pretty cool!' I said.

'Yeah!' said Arcturus in pleased surprise, thumbing through the pages. 'This is brilliant…thanks, Mr Weasley, that was really…well, nice.'

'My pleasure,' said Dad. I grinned at Dad, liking that he'd thought of Arcturus. I was pretty lucky to have the parents I did, really. Dad could drive me nuts with his overprotection, and Mum could be really strict sometimes…but they were both great all the same.

We got through the rest of the present giving rather quickly; we never got ridiculous amounts of presents. My parents made good money, but there _were_ four of us. I had gotten Arcturus a fancy quill set, with some different coloured inks, and some parchment stationery. He had gotten me a nice, new watch, since I'd broken mine in Quidditch practice sometime in November. I'd gotten Mum and Dad some books they'd been wanting, and I got Killian a set of music books. (He liked to sing.) For Kian I had gotten a talking book about bugs…the kid loved bugs.

As for me, I got a few books from various family members, a broomstick servicing kit from Mum and Dad, a coin cleaning kit (I loved to collect coins), and various other trinkets…but the signed magazine was definitely my favourite.

Until Mum and Dad brought out a last present each for my brothers and me. We didn't always get a big present at Christmas, but sometimes they would surprise us and get us something really cool. This year looked to be one of those. I felt my heart do a Wonky Feint in my chest as I saw how long and thin mine was…Kieran's was long and thin, too.

'Well go ahead and open them, boys,' said Dad.

As excited as my little brothers, I ran over to mine and tore open the package, my eyes widening as I saw the writing on the box beneath: Firebolt Streamline…the newest Firebolt model! 'Wow,' I whispered, looking at it. I let a delighted laugh and ran over to hug both Mum and Dad, who also laughed at my reaction.

'I know you've been wanting a new broom for a while,' said Dad. 'And your old one was getting pretty worn. I imagine this one will help you chase after those bludgers.'

'Definitely…thanks!' Grinning like a maniac, I looked over to see what my brothers had gotten.

Kieran had a Nimbus 2070, a fairly inexpensive model, but the point was, it was a grown-up broom. Kieran's broom had been a junior model, only going up twenty feet or so, and not going more than fifteen miles an hour or so.

'Now your mum and I expect you to show responsibility when riding this broom, Kieran,' said Dad firmly, as Kieran gaped wordlessly at the broom. 'I know you're usually pretty careful when riding, but this one's an adult model broom. You can die, falling from this broom if you're not careful. Okay?'

Kieran nodded slowly, still gaping at the broom with an open mouth, and I had to laugh.

Kian's cry of delight drew my eye to him. He was happily hugging a very large, plush billywig – a bright blue inset with wings on its head. The thing was a bit taller than Kian. He likes insects the best, but he liked stuffed animals almost as much.

Killian's special gift was a potions kit. It seemed to be an adult's potioneer's kit, with a large book on potions, a starter kit of ingredients, a set of measuring materials, a set of scales, and a set of phials and glass jars. It was cooler than the one I'd started with when going to Hogwarts!

'Wow…this is neat!' exclaimed Killian, looking it over. He wasn't necessarily a scholarly sort, Killian. He liked to read, but he only liked fiction. But when it came to certain things, like old clocks and alchemy, he loved to learn about them.

Mum spoke up. 'Keep that out of the reach of your brothers. It's got a lock I'll give you the key to. It's got some fairly dangerous stuff in there, like nightshade. You hear that, boys?' She turned her gaze on Kieran and Kian. 'You're not to go near your brother's potions kit, okay?'

'Okay,' they both said, almost in unison.

'Well!' said Dad. 'It's been a very good Christmas I think…why don't you boys bring all your stuff upstairs while Mum and I clean up all of this mess you've made?' He grinned as he indicated all of the paper and cardboard and other assorted remnants of the gift decorations.

We didn't need to be told twice! Arcturus helped me bring my new things upstairs, and I knew my brothers would need to make two trips…three in Kian's case, since he was so little. It _had_ been a great Christmas! Not just the presents, either. Arcturus was there, and Ke'koa and his family would be there later, and I'd had a great day so far.

Arcturus and I spent the rest of the morning looking through his duelling book, and talking about which spells we'd use against the Moors the next time they started a fight. Kian came in and hung out for a while, I think to be near Arcturus. He seemed to have really taken a liking to him.

We had lunch around noon, then spent the afternoon looking through some of my books, admiring my new Firebolt, and talking about our next Quidditch match. (Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff.) I had told Killian that he could have my old broom if he wanted it, and he'd accepted it, after thinking about it for a while. He didn't much care one way or another about flying, but understood it would be useful to have a broom. (Kian had gotten Kieran's old junior model, which went higher than his kiddie broom.)

Supper that night was noisy, bright, and a lot of fun. Ke'koa and his family arrived around five o'clock, and were rather surprised to see Arcturus there. I explained we'd invited him over to get him away from his overly-charming family, and Ke'koa laughed.

Mum and Dad made us all set the table, and between me, Arcturus, Ke'koa, and my brothers, it was done in about a minute. Us older kids helped them set all the food on the table.

We mostly talked, during dinner. The adults talked about boring things, and Arcturus, Ke'koa, and I talked about our presents and what we were gonna do when we got back to school. Arcturus said he'd have to show Ke'koa his new book, and I mentioned I had gotten a new broomstick.

We ate sort of fast, as we wanted time to show Ke'koa the things we'd gotten for Christmas, but did stick around long enough for the pudding. Mum had baked a fantastic cake, full of blueberries and covered in sweet cream frosting.

Once we'd eaten way too much, I let Arcturus and Ke'koa up to my room, showing off my new broomstick and the signed magazine, Arcturus showing him the duelling book. Arcturus and I cracked up when the first thing out of Ke'koa mouth was, 'Brilliant, now we have ammunition against the Moor twins!'

'That's what we said!' I crowed.

'Great minds thing alike,' agreed Arcturus.

The Ilimas hung around for a bit after supper, the adults talking in the living room, and us kids in my room. When they left, around nine, I felt drained but happy. Definitely one of the better Christmases I'd had.


	13. Treasure Hunting

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 13****: Treasure Hunting**

Boxing Day dawned bright and cold. And when I say cold, I mean cold; the wind was howling, and I was glad to be inside. I mean I didn't want it to be steaming hot outside, but this was ridiculous!

Everyone was in a sort of quiet mood during breakfast, which was normal for the day after Christmas. Mum was talking about the Boxing Day Quidditch match, which was supposed to be that day between the Kestrals and the Wasps, which only made me feel surly. Boxing Day matches were never open to the public, and it was only because of tradition that they did it. It wasn't part of the normal Quidditch game year.

'How do they choose who's to play the Boxing Day match, anyway?' I asked.

'They draw lots,' said Dad. 'At least the British teams do…not sure if they even do it in other countries.'

'Some do,' said Mum. 'Canada does, for sure, and Australia. I think Japan _might_ have a Boxing Day match, but I'm not sure. They don't have Boxing Day there, but I think Quidditch-wise they emulate other countries.'

It still annoyed me…it would be cool to watch. Though maybe not today. I could only imagine how hellishly cold it was going to be up there today.

After breakfast, Killian disappeared to investigate his potions kit, and Kieran convinced Dad to go out and teach him to start using his new broomstick. Better them than me! Kian had taken to following Arcturus around, something that at once touched and annoyed Arcturus. I, personally, was really amused. It wasn't until we went into my room and got out some of our schoolbooks, and pretended that we had some essays to do, that he wandered off to do his own thing.

'He's not as impatient as Kieran,' I said as I put the books away, 'but he still gets bored easily.'

'Takes after you,' said Arcturus, and I laughed.

'Yeah, well. Who wants to be bored? Speaking of which…what do you want to do? I don't wanna play chess or Exploding Snap or Gobstones.'

'Yeah…me neither. I suppose we can have a walk outside…is this a wizarding neighbourhood?'

'No,' I said, smirking. 'And I could ask Mum if we could go down to the corner shop and get some hot chocolates or something…but you'd have to borrow some of my Muggle clothes.' I grinned at the disgusted look on Arcturus's face; he thought modern Muggle clothing was ridiculous. The closest I ever saw him wear was something that wouldn't have been out of place in the eighteenth century.

'It must be weird, living among Muggles,' said Arcturus.

'Well, there are mostly wizarding living on our street, and maybe a few in each direction. But there're a few Muggles. Some of our friends know what we are, but they're not all friends. And the woman that runs the corner shop is a Muggle. On second thought…it'd be interesting to see what they thought of your robes….'

'No thanks…I think I'll pass.' He gave my clothes a rather despairing look.

'Hey!' I said suddenly. 'I know what we could do. Up in the attic, there're a whole lot of old boxes and crates from all my relatives…some of them are really old. We could go up there and look around….'

Arcturus shrugged agreeably. 'Okay. There's nothing else to do.'

'It's really dusty up there,' I said. 'Did you bring any breeches at all? Your robes would just sweep up all the dust…though Mum might be pleased that you've swept the floor.'

Arcturus laughed. 'Well, I've got my knickerbockers…I suppose I could put those on. Give me a minute…it's those stairs at the end of the all is it?'

'Those are the ones,' I agreed, getting up off of my bed. 'I'll meet you up there, then.'

The attic was as dusty as it had been when Dad and I got out the Christmas decorations. There were a couple of corners in the attic that were fairly clean, as we got into them now and then. The Christmas corner was one, and the opposite corner where other holiday decorations sat. The rest was filthy. It was a good thing neither of us had any allergies.

When Arcturus joined me, he was wearing knee breeches and an old-fashioned shirt. On most people it probably would have looked silly, but it suited Arcturus far more than normal clothing. 'How dashing,' I said with a grin, and ducked the punch he aimed at my arm.

'Watch it,' he said. 'All right…so where're all these fascinating crates?'

I gestured around, sweeping my arm to indicate most of the attic. 'If it's got the dust of ages on it, it's probably not been gone through for decades,' I said. It was a good indicator, too.

'Logical,' said Arcturus, and headed for a trunk over at one side of the room. 'Let's start at opposite ends of the attic and work our way toward one another.'

I agreed that was a good plan, and we split up; I headed for the attic window, where there was an old cedar trunk that looked promising, and Arcturus pulled out an old cardboard box from the bottom shelf of a large bookcase.

For some time, neither of us said anything. From the moment I opened that first trunk and began going through its contents, I was completely enrapt. Things of days past always intrigued me, and I couldn't believe I only now realized what a treasure trove of ancient artefacts was up there! The first trunk contained a bunch of women's robes, and a few letters…mostly love letters, which I had absolutely no use for. But I found a neat old tiara that I set aside to show my mum.

A nearby crate was full of old schoolbooks, from maybe fifty years ago, and I paged through those with mild interest. Most of them looked a lot like the ones we had now, though some of the wording was a bit archaic. One of them had a name in it, 'Louis Weasley'. I didn't remember having heard of a Louis Weasley in our family, and I supposed he was probably one of the many uncles and cousins that were running around in the Weasley family tree.

'Cripes, Calen,' said Arcturus. 'How many people are in your family, anyway?'

I laughed, looking over at him to see what he'd found. He was holding up a book whose pages seemed to be a bit ripped. 'What is it?'

'It's an address book…it's got the year 2043 in it.'

'Bet it's full of mostly Weasleys,' I said.

'Oh it is. Blimey, you're taking over the country.'

I had to laugh at that! It wasn't far off. The Weasleys had a penchant for having big families, mostly boys, who carried on the family name.

When Mum called us down for lunch, I was shocked that morning had slipped away so quickly. Arcturus and I reluctantly left the fascinating attic, and I grabbed the tiara I'd found. When we arrived in the dining room, looking dusty and dishevelled, my Mum gave me a strange look. 'What on Earth were you two doing all morning?'

Dad looked like he'd guessed what we'd been up to, since he'd been with me when I mentioned exploring the attic. I told Mum about it, and showed her the tiara. 'I thought you'd like this. I found it I an old trunk with a bunch of robes, and love letters.' I made a horrible face, an expression that was mirrored by all three of my brothers.

'Oh, how lovely!' said Mum, taking the tiara. 'I wonder how many other things like this are up there.'

'Not much so far,' I said. 'It's mostly clothes and books and stuff…but it's still really interesting! There's all sorts of history in there.' I never knew how to explain why I liked old things. I didn't think there were words for how it felt to hold a book that someone had held a hundred years before, almost about to feel that strange other world, like you were holding Time itself in your hands. Or when I picked up an ancient coin, the chill that went through me, imagining what the world was like when it was newly minted, what kinds of things surrounded the person who carried it in his pocket, or her handbag.

'Can we come up too?' asked Kieran interestedly.

I shrugged. 'I guess so. It's boring stuff for you, though. All that 'stupid old stuff' that I like to go through.'

Kieran's expression fell a bit. 'Oh. Well…if you find any toys, will you tell me?'

'Sure,' I said with a laugh. 'I haven't seen any yet, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything.'

Satisfied, Kieran went back to his meal.

Arcturus and I ate quickly, eager to go back to our exploration expedition. As far as expeditions went, it was kind of tame, but at least it was fairly interesting.

Killian joined us when we returned, sitting quietly at my side with a book and looking at the things I brought out of the crates. If it was something that interested him, he'd take it and examine it before handing it back. Once I found an old potions book from Hogwarts that he kept, intending to ask Mum and Dad if he could have it.

While Arcturus began to get into an old pile of boxes that were way in the back, I started on a new set of shelves, pulling out old clothes and odd things like monocles like the one Professor Blake had, or hats, or boots. Once I found a pair of obnoxious shoes with the word 'Converse' stamped into its sole. It was red and black checkered.

We were at it for hours. Up to and after supper, until Arcturus finally slumped back against the wall with an exhausted sort of groan. 'That's it for me,' he said.

I was beginning to feel pretty tired, myself. I was dusty, sweaty (all the heat from the house seemed to have risen into the attic), and sore. Me knees aches from crawling around among all the boxes, and my shoulders were sore from pulling things out one by one. Killian had gone down into his room three hours ago. 'Yeah, me too,' I said, looking out the little attic window at the strangely light street. When there was snow on the ground, all the moonlight reflected off of it and made everything look weirdly bright.

I looked at the item I had in my hand, which seemed to be a very old, but fairly thin book with a soft leather cover on it. 'Yeah, me too,' I said flipping through it.

'Let's come back up here tomorrow.'

That was a good idea! And so vowing, Arcturus and I went back downstairs to take turns at the shower. I tossed the book onto my bed, intending to have a look at it before I went to bed.

I was glad I did! While Arcturus drifted off the dreamland in his sleeping bag, I opened it up and wasn't entirely surprised to find it was the diary of some Weasley or another. Fred Weasley, in fact. And the first date in the journal was the seventh of March, 2013.

It was apparent that this Fred Weasley was not one of the famous Weasley Twins, whose names were Fred and George. We've had several twin sets in our family, but _the_ Weasley Twins were rather a family legend. Quite skilled wizards, they took part in the battle against Voldemort. One of them died during the final battle…they were the ones who founded Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, in fact.

This one, though, was born too late to be one of the twins. A bit of skimming through the pages revealed he was the son of the surviving twins, though! It figured…he seemed to have inherited his father's trickster nature. I had an idea that Kieran might just take after them a bit.

I read a bit longer than I had intended to, but this kid's life was just way too entertaining. He was in his fifth year at Hogwarts when he wrote the diary, and had an adventurous school career. Among his crowning achievements were covering the Quidditch pitch with Portable Swamps right before a game, so that there was no time to clear it off before the match. I had to stifle my laughter…that was something I would love to try!

But what was the most interesting was the mention of a room called the Room of Requirement that was somewhere in Hogwarts. Fred Weasley didn't say much about it, but it was obviously a very special room:

_I was almost caught sneaking into the Room of Requirement with my bag of WWW goods…that would've been a month's worth of detention if old Filch had caught me! Good thing he doesn't know how to get into the Room. All he knows is that it's on the seventh floor. Not how to get in._

I figured if a room was important enough to be capitalized, then it was important enough to find out more about. And now I had a location to go off of: the seventh floor. Brilliant.

Yawning, I put the book on my bedside table, blew out the lamp, and lay down to sleep.

--

The next day, Arcturus and I spent the day with my family, playing in the snow, and forgot about going up into the attic. In fact we didn't remember until the day before we were supposed to back to Hogwarts, especially with the distractions of the mini New Year's party we had. Mum and Dad actually let Arcturus and me have a small glass of wine, each. It was pretty good, too! The little kids were allowed a sip each, and Kian and Kieran both proclaimed it to be disgusting. They got sparkling grape juice instead, which was far more to their liking. I was just surprised they managed to stay up until midnight, especially Kian.

When I finally remembered that Arcturus and I had intended to resume our attic exploration, I was irritated with myself…we could have probably gotten through everything up there if we hadn't forgotten about it! Still, I supposed that would give me something to do during spring break.

And so, after lunch, Arcturus and I went attic spelunking.

I found a few more clothes and things, and even a toy carriage that still had enough magic in it to roll around; I snagged it for my brothers to play with. It wasn't until I got into a little, wooden trunk near the very back of the attic that I found the really interesting thing.

The trunk looked like it was hundreds of years old--preserved rather better than a Muggle-made container would have been, but still, it was _old. _The thing was sealed tightly, even as old as it was, and it took several surreptitious taps of my wand to get it to open. If that locking charm was set down as long ago as I thought it was…I was impressed. I didn't think any charm could last hundreds of years.

Very intrigued now, almost insanely curious, I opened the lid and peered inside.

The thing that flew out of the trunk nearly caught me right between the eyes. I think the only thing that kept me from losing an eye was the age of the device that was inside. There was a glint, a click, and a sudden, urgent MOVE NOW instinct made me give a startled yell and lurch to the side. I caught sight of Arcturus, looking startled, turning my way as the trunk and its contents banged to the floor and scattered. And the knife that would have hit me in the eye or right between them thunked into the wood floor with enough force to embed the blade halfway in.

I stared, my heart thumping with sudden, frantic speed, my breathing coming in short, quick gasps. My entire system, just seconds before content and curious, was keyed up for action, for a fight to the death. Was this what adrenaline felt like? It sort of like what I had felt at my first Quidditch game or when dodging a bludger that could crack my head open.

'What in the bloody hell was that?' Arcturus demanded, hurrying over and helping me to my feet.

My breath was beginning to slow, and I was able breathe in deeply for a moment, holding it to try and dispel some of the _ready-now_ feeling still tingling my nerves. 'I…am not sure,' I said, peering warily at the trunk. It seemed to be still and quiet, but I wasn't about to trust it again so easily. 'It tried to skewer me!'

Arcturus swore very softly as he looked at the knife in awe. 'That could have gone right through even your thick skull,' he said with a shaky laugh. I would have laughed, too, if it wasn't so true. It was slowly sinking in that I could have, right at that moment, died. Just…died. Within a second. I wasn't sure if the thought excited me or terrified me beyond belief.

I edged towards it carefully, keeping a close eye on it. Arcturus hissed, wincing as he grabbed my arm. 'Watch it…watch it,' he said.

I nodded tensely. 'I am.' I could only imagine what it looked like to an outsider, the two of us sneaking up on a little wooden trunk. I gave the thing a nudge and jumped back when there was another click. Arcturus made a noise of startlement, and we stumbled back several feet…but it seemed my light kick had simply joggled the sprung mechanisms.

The two of us looked at each other for a moment – he looked a little pale and very alert, and I probably looked the same—and then all at once we began laughing. I don't know about him, but my laughter had more than a little release of tension in it. Who knew a trip to the attic could be a life and death situation? And the booby trap wasn't even the half of it. If only I knew then what I had done by opening that unassuming little trunk.

We finally determined that the trunk had only the one booby trap in it, and I very carefully set it upright. There was nothing left in it; it was all over the floor. Arcturus knelt down and helped me to gather it all up. I was more curious than ever now to see what someone could have thought was so important that he had to protect it with a deadly booby trap.

At first I was sorely disappointed. There were some very old parchments, so faded I could barely read them, but they only seemed to be legal documents of some sort. I'd have to show my dad…he'd love these old parchments. There was some jewellery, which looked very old, mostly rings and one pearl necklace. There was a small dagger, which was pretty neat (this one was in a sheath, not in a spring-loaded instrument of death.)

'Well, pretty cool, ' said Arcturus, examining one of the rings. 'Emerald…the best colour, you know.'

I laughed a bit, looking around to make sure we hadn't missed anything, and that was when I saw the coin.

At first I didn't realize it was a coin. It was steel-grey, triangle-shaped, about an inch and a half from base to tip. It had a triangle shaped hole in the middle, obviously part of the coin's design. Thinking it was an amulet or a trinket or some sort, I picked it up, peering at the markings on it.

'What is it?' asked Arcturus, coming over to get a better look.

But my heart was suddenly racing again with excitement; I had finally identified the 'trinket', and if I was right, it was very valuable…almost priceless to a collector! I ran over to the lamp, holding it up and having a good, long look at it. But it couldn't be real, could it?

'Er, Calen?' asked Arcturus, coming over to me once more and looked baffled. 'So what it is?'

'A coin!' I exclaimed, seemingly unable to speak above a whisper. 'It's a coin…a wizarding coin!' I gazed at the strange design, my eyes fixing on the wands that decorated the two slanted sides of the triangle, skimming the Latin I couldn't read that was stamped along the baseline. I turned the coin over with a hand that shook slightly and was able to read the date: 1193.

Arcturus was giving me a very strange look. 'You sure about that?'

I laughed, feeling weak with excitement and amazement. 'Positive,' I said. 'These were made in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries…this was when wizards, not goblins, ran Gringotts. Actually…I dunno if Gringotts even existed yet. But this was minted by….' I turned the coin on its edge, searching for the mint mark, and made out the tiny, precise etching. I blinked.

'What? Who minted it?' asked Arcturus, who seemed to be catching my excitement.

'Wesley,' I murmured. 'Creirwy Wesley…at first I thought it said Weasley.' I was quiet for a moment as I stared at the edge of the coin. It was in astonishingly good shape for supposedly being so old. Even if it had sat in this trunk all that time, even if the trunk had never been moved, it should have been far more worn than this. Even without other forced to wear a coin down, time itself was more than enough. But this coin looked brand new. The lines were crisp and sharp, the edges were even and straight, and the etching and deign looked like they'd been minted yesterday.

I told this to Arcturus, who took the coin and frowned. 'Maybe it's a replica,' he said.

'Yeah,' I agreed, taking it back, my heart seeming to sink a bit in my chest. 'Probably it is.' Still…there was the matter of it being in that ancient trunk, with all of that old jewellery. 'Maybe I'll ask Dad.'

And speaking of Dad….

'Calen!' Dad's voice floated up from the doorway at the bottom of the stairs, and I trotted over to peer down at him. Dad grinned up at me, taking in my dusty clothes and bedraggled appearance, and shook his head ruefully. 'What a mess. Anyway, it's time for supper.'

'Okay, we'll be right down' I said, and Dad disappeared.

'We'd better, er, do something about this,' said Arcturus, nodding down at the knife stuck in the floor.

Good idea! I agreed, and he and I went over, taking turns wedging it out of the wood. The more we had to pull at the dagger, the more uneasy I got. The force it must have been propelled with--! Even if it hadn't lodged in my eye, it probably would have killed me. 'I still can't believe that,' I said as I finally yanked the blade out. I ran a finger lightly along the gouge it had made in the floor. Not that anyone would notice; no one came up here much.

'Well…good thing you play Quidditch,' said Arcturus. 'Like dodging a bludger.'

It was true, all that practice just might have saved my life. 'Come on,' I said. 'I'm suddenly starving.' That tended to happen when I was doing something interesting. I forgot about food until someone distracted me, and then I was ravenous.


	14. Winter Term

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 14****: Winter Term**

Super that night was roast chicken, potatoes, and green peppers, a favourite dinner of mine. Mum and Dad usually made a dinner I loved before I had to go back to school. I thought it was a pretty nice thing to do.

'So did you find anything interesting?' asked Dad.

'Yeah,' I said, deciding to omit the part about the booby trap. Maybe I'd tell Mum, since she wouldn't freak out, but not Dad. 'I found this coin…well, I think it's a replica. It's old. And there's no way a coin that old could look so new.' I dug the coin out of my pocket and tossed it to Dad. I caught sight of Killian rolling his eyes in an amused way, and kicked him under the table. He grimaced, but still sort of smirked. He was a great kid, but my coin collecting sometimes exasperated him. He didn't see the point of coins you couldn't use.

'That _is_ interesting,' said Dad, showing the coin to Mum. 'These are the old-style coins…before they began minting Galleons.'

'Yeah, those were called tricoins,' I said. 'Creative, huh?'

'So how much was one of those coins worth?' asked Arcturus.

'Well it was the highest one,' I said. 'You know, the highest denomination, like the Galleons. It was worth about then same for then as a Galleon is now. Of course back then, a Galleon would have been a lot of money.'

'When'd they start making Galleons?'

'Right afterwards,' I said, taking a bite of chicken. '1200, maybe.1225, something like that.'

'Who cares?' said Kieran, sticking out his tongue in an expression of distaste. 'That was way long ago. Who cares about all that old stuff, anyway?'

I felt a rush of irritation at Kieran, as I always did when someone discounted the things I liked because it was ancient history. This much be how archaeologists and palaeontologists must feel sometimes when people disdained their studies. 'I do, brat,' I said. 'Like you drool over the Chudley Cannons all the time even though everyone knows they're rubbish.'

Kieran's face reddened, and he drew in a big breath…that always meant a furious tirade was about to explode, but Dad cut things short.

'That is _enough! _Kieran, if you yell at this table, you can stay in your room all night. Understood?'

Kieran scowled furiously, but let his breath out in a sulky huff instead of an outraged wail.

'You don't have to like Calen's coin collecting, but if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all,' my father continued, and I nodded rather smugly. It was always nice when my parents took my side. Especially when one of my brothers was being a pain.

Mum had my coin now, and handed it back. 'Well, it does seem like it is a replica, doesn't it?' she said. 'Maybe it was a part of a history exhibit or something. Keep it, maybe it's a good luck charm.' She grinned and went back to her meal.

That was a good idea, I decided I _would_ keep it. A fateful decision, though I didn't know it just yet. I slipped it back in my pocket then went back to my meal.

What little was left of the Christmas holidays was pleasant enough. Arcturus and I spent the evening with my parents, having hot chocolate and talking about what we'd do once we got back to school. Arcturus's answer to that was 'cause trouble', and I concurred. Mum and Dad looked at each other and exchanged a long-suffering sigh. I knew better though – I had heard the stories of what kinds of mischief they'd gotten up to in school!

Arcturus and I went up to my room to make sure we had everything for school, followed closely by Kian, who was in question-mode, and was asking Arcturus all sorts of weird things, like what his favourite food was, and if he thought Creaothceann was weird (he could barely pronounce the word), and what colour pants he had on.

I burst out laughing at the look on Arcturus's face. I was used to Kian's questions, but Arcturus was not. 'How do you know he's wearing pants?' I asked Kian with a grin.

Kian giggled gleefully, and Arcturus gave me a solid punch on the arm. 'Of course I'm wearing them, you prat,' he said, finally laughing. 'And they're white, what other colour would they be?'

'Pink!' said Kian, still giggling. He seemed to be in silly mode this night.

'Pink?' said Arcturus in disbelief. 'No thanks. So what colour are yours, then?'

He'd asked the wrong question. I smacked my forehead as Kian grinned, dropped his trousers, and _showed_ Arcturus his bright orange pants. Arcturus blinked, looked at me, and I shrugged.

'Well, you asked,' I said reasonably, trying not to grin too hard.

Arcturus turned back to Kian, who was pulling his trousers back up. 'Er, nice,' he finally said. 'I like mine a little less bright.'

There were no more underwear displays that night, but Kian stuck around a bit more to talk with Arcturus, and I spent the time going through Fred Weasley's diary. I'd told Arcturus about it, and he agreed this Room of Requirement was probably the one we'd been looking for, and was eager to hunt it down when we got back.

I didn't sleep that well that night, but I never did when anticipating a return to Hogwarts…excitement and regret all rolled into one. I suppose that was par for any Hogwarts student, though. I could sleep on the train…I'd have plenty of time then!

The next morning, we blew past breakfast at what seemed like high speed, and got ready to bundle everyone off to King's Cross Station. The scene there was almost exactly as it had been at the beginning of the year: Kian was sniffly, Kieran was bored and impatient, and Killian was quiet.

Arcturus, once more, was uncharacteristically shy. I felt a sudden twinge of anger; that he'd have to feel that way just because an adult had shown him kindness…he must be really unused to it. 'Thanks,' said Arcturus to my parents, his dark face a bit darker than normal. 'I really enjoyed the holidays.

Dad and Mum smiled at Arcturus, and Mum actually stepped forward to hug him. He looked very surprised, but pleased, and awkwardly hugged her back, blushing more furiously. I sort of smiled and gave him the thumbs-up.

'It was our pleasure, Arcturus,' said Dad, offering his hand. 'We'll have you next year, too, if you like.'

'I'd love it, sir,' said Arcturus, shaking my dad's hand.

'It's settled then,' said Dad, clapping him on the shoulder. 'Well…I guess you boys should start thinking about boarding. Looks like they're getting ready to head off.'

I hugged my parents and my little brothers. Kian now had me _and_ Arcturus to miss…I felt a little sorry for him. I picked the kid up and gave him an extra-strong hug.

'You squished me!' he accused through his tears.

'I know!' I said, hugging him tightly once more. 'And I did it again, too.' I was rewarded by a little giggle this time. 'Watch over Mum and Dad while I'm gone, okay?'

Kian nodded. 'Okay. Win at Quidditch, okay?'

'Definitely!' That was a promise I intended to keep, too!

Arcturus and I finally pried ourselves away from my family and boarded the train. Arcturus had a sheepish but pleased smile on his face. 'Your parents are nice,' he said. 'That was really cool of them.'

'Yeah, they're the best,' I agreed as we fought out way through the crowded train corridors. 'I've told them about your family. They can't stand when parents don't take proper care of their kids.'

'Yeah…me too,' said Arcturus with a kind of laugh. ' I like your little brothers, too…Kian's a great little kid. I'm kinda glad I don't have any brothers or sisters. I'd hate to think of them growing up in my house.'

'Like you had to,' I thought angrily. Why'd they have kids if they didn't want to pay any attention to them? How stupid was that?

We finally met with the others in one of the first compartments, where they were sitting and talking about Transfiguration class, from what I could see. Faolan and Ke'koa were, anyway. Peter was reading a book.

'Hey!' said Ke'koa with a grin as Arcturus and I came in. 'It's about time!'

I grinned back, taking a seat on the bench, Arcturus sitting next to me. 'Hey at least we made it…and guess what? I found something in the attic of our house…a diary from one of my ancestors. We might have a place to look for that secret room!'

That even pulled Peter's attention away from his book; in fact all three of them were staring at me eagerly.

'Well don't just sit there, mate, tell us!' said Faolan.

Not wanting Faolan to explode in the middle of the train, I did. I told them about the diary, and who had owned it…and about the Room he had mentioned. ''The Room of Requirement', he called it,' I said. 'I've got the journal in my trunk.'

'And it's on the seventh floor?' said Faolan eagerly. 'Brilliant, that's a great starting point!'

'That's not all, either.' I told them about the old trunk I'd found, with the booby trap in it, and showed them the strange coin. I was a bit irritated that none of them seemed as interested in this as in the Room of Requirement, but I supposed I understood. The coin was probably just a replica. Faolan was rather intrigued by the booby trap, but Ke'koa said it was probably just a trap set by some evil-tempered bloke who didn't like people snooping in his stuff.

'There was some valuable rings and stuff in there, wasn't there?' he asked.

'Yeah,' I said. 'Yeah…I guess he could have wanted to protect those.' I still wondered why he'd thrown a trinket in there too, but shrugged it off. Unless I met the person who'd done it, I wouldn't ever know.

My friends spent much of the time talking about candidates for the location of the hidden room. As I had predicted, I fell asleep a couple house after the lunch trolley came round, curling up on my half of the seat and getting a nap of maybe three hours.

When I woke, it had gotten dark, and the compartment was filled with flickering torchlight. I yawned, feeling a bit more energized for my nap, and stretched. 'What'd I miss?' I asked.

'Not much,' said Arcturus, busy with a came of chess with Peter. 'Though your git of a cousin here's beat me four straight games.'

Peter smiled serenely, maybe even a little smugly, and I laughed. 'Maybe he needs to find someone who's a bit more of a challenge,' I said, and Arcturus sent a rude gesture my way.

'Is that a challenge?' asked Peter, making a move and watching his bishop beat up Arcturus's queen. Arcturus swore.

'No way,' I said. 'I'm not a challenge, either. Challenge me to a Quidditch game, and I'll accept.'

'I'll pass, thanks.' Peter wasn't a good flier, and was a bit afraid of heights. Not a lot, just enough that he didn't like flying much.

The game ended with a checkmate that gained Peter another win, and Arcturus sighed in a resigned sort of way.

'Another one?' asked Peter, and laughed when Arcturus said he'd rather jump in the lake.

'That's okay,' I said. 'Read up on that book my parents gave you and challenge him to a duel.' Ke'koa asked what book we were talking about, and Arcturus said he'd gotten a book about duelling that we could all use for when the Slytherins started a fight.

'That's neat,' said Faolan eagerly. 'It'll be brilliant for Duelling Club, too!'

I hadn't thought of that! My first thoughts about the book had been revenge on Gideon and Cuthbert Moor. 'Hey, that's right!' I said. 'That should be a lot of help. And maybe Arcturus'll even break down and join the club sometime.'

'Too many rules,' said Arcturus. 'And my favourite curses are illegal in tournaments!'

We all had to laugh at that; he did have a good point.

It had begun to snow again when we reached Hogsmeade Station, but I didn't mind. Ke'koa complained rather vehemently about it, and I agreed the cold was no treat, but at least it wasn't storming.

--

The first days back to school are never very fun. Our first day was Monday, which began with Care of Magical Creatures…and that reminded me that Professor Forrester was the one who wanted to know about the hidden room to begin with. It also got me thinking again as to why on earth he did. It was a bit odd, I thought, a teacher asking the students about that kind of thing. They didn't normally like to give kids any more ammunition to cause trouble than we already had. I thought about telling him what we'd learned, but decided to wait until we'd found something a little more concrete.

January was always a slow, boring month. There were two Quidditch matches, one between us and Hufflepuff, then one between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. (We won our match; so did Ravenclaw, which I was smug about.) It was fun except for the mind-numbing cold.

The five of us – six when we included Sekhmet Stark – spent a great deal of our free time looking for the Room of Requirement. Sekhmet actually had more time than we did; being a second year, she didn't have the extra classes. But to our utter frustration, we couldn't find anything that could be a Room of Requirement. We found a secret passage, an unused classroom with a hole in the ceiling that led up to the pipes and insulation, a loose floorboard in a little-used hallway, and several paintings and portraits we'd not seen before. But no strange room. I was beginning to think that this room either never existed, despite Fred Weasley's journal, or that it wasn't there anymore.

On the first of February, I got a letter from home with the morning post. Mum had written, saying that someone had broken into their home the night before, apparently looking for valuables…but they didn't take anything. I felt a tickling of unease as I read Mum's postscript, that the thieves had ignored her jewellery and gone up to the attic to ransack it. She didn't think anything had been taken, but the first thing I thought of was that little wooden chest.

'What's wrong, mate?' asked Ke'koa.

'Someone broke into my house,' I said, giving them a significant look. 'In the attic.'

'After the old books maybe?' said Faolan. 'Or the jewels?'

'My mum's got jewels, and they didn't touch those,' I said. 'Why would some normal thief look in a dusty attic for jewels? Unless any of them are special?' I felt the outline of the tricoin in my pocket, biting my lip. I was beginning more and more to think that just maybe it was no replica. Maybe it was special. Of course…we'd not gotten into half of what was up in the attic. It was entirely possible it was something else entirely.

'Do they have any idea who did it?' asked Peter.

'No…they didn't leave a damned clue.' I didn't like that, either. It sounded far too much like all those murders that left no clues. Maybe I was being paranoid, but still. This was my family.

'Well, they didn't attack anyone,' said Ke'koa, correctly interpreting my worried look. 'If they found what they wanted, they should leave you alone. If they didn't find it, they probably figure it's not there.'

'Yeah,' I said. 'Maybe….' And maybe not. I'd have to write back and ask if they'd noticed a small, wooden chest up there…I had left it on the shelf. If it was gone….

I wrote to my family that night, sending the school barn owl out into the chilly air, and got a reply back the next afternoon. I didn't much like what it said.

_Dear Calen:_

_The chest is, indeed, gone, if you've told me the right shelf to look. In fact I looked all over the attic for such a chest in case you had made a mistake, and it's not there, neither are the things you described as having been inside. _

_Do you know something you're not telling us? I know you and Arcturus were up there a very long time and likely know the contents better than we do. Write back._

_Love,_

_Mum_

The sounds of lunch around me seemed like they were coming from far away as I brought out the strange little coin. I ran my finger over the curiously sharp and new-looking etching and stamped design. Why was it so new looking? Was it never circulated as a coin? I hadn't thought that they minted uncirculated collector's coins back then.

'So?' The eager voice brought me back to the Great Hall. Ke'koa was looking at me intently, his eyes wide. 'Is that from your parents? What's it say?' Faolan, Peter, and Arcturus were looking interestedly, too.

I handed the letter over, still not sure how I felt about this. We had something that someone wanted badly enough to break into our house.

A jeering voice from behind me made me spin furiously around. 'Love letters, Weasley?' asked Cuthbert Moor, grinning mockingly.

'Let's have a see!' cried Gideon, snatching the paper out of Ke'koa's hands.

'OI!' Ke'koa snarled, lunging at Gideon, but he was still sitting down, and Gideon danced out of his way.

'Awww, 'love Mum'!' Gideon crowed, laughing as Ke'koa nearly knocked me off the bench extracting himself from the bench.

'Give it here, Moor!' I growled, also trying to get out of my seat, but things didn't have a chance to go much farther.

'Here, now! Here, now, stop that, boys!' It was Professor Pender, the Potions master, hurrying over to us from the Entrance Hall where he obviously had just come in. 'What's going on?'

'That git's stolen my letter,' I said, finally able to stand up and glare at the Moor twins.

Gideon snorted, throwing the letter down on the table with a contemptuous sneer. 'There, you big baby. I was only looking.'

'It's none of your bloody business!' Ke'koa growled, clenching his fist and taking a step forward.

Professor Pender got physically between Ke'koa and I, and the Moor twins, holding a hand up in each direction. By that time, nearly everyone in the Great Hall had quieted to look at us and I felt my ears going red. How dare those worthless little brats make fun of my mother?

'That is _enough._' Pender's voice was quiet, but absolute. 'You two, get to your own table and stop making trouble,' he said to the Moor twins. 'Ten points from Slytherin.'

The Moors left, but grudgingly, and both of them sent identical evil glares at Ke'koa and me. Ke'koa shook his fist and I merely glared.

Pender then turned round to face us, instead, his voice a little quieter. 'And you two…can't you solve anything without fighting?'

'He grabbed it right out of my hand, sir,' said Ke'koa, making an effort not to sound as furious as he felt. It wasn't Professor Pender's fault, after all. 'It was private…how was I supposed to get it back?'

Professor Pender sighed. 'All right, I understand,' he said. 'But do try to solve it in a civilized manner next time. If you have another shouting match in the middle of the Great Hall, I shall have to dock points. Understood?'

'Yea, sir,' Ke'koa mumbled as I said the same thing at almost the same time. Pender nodded in acknowledgement, then left.

'Those bloody, worthless--' I began, than bit the rest off, unable to find a word strong enough for what I wanted. I scowled and snatched the letter from the table.

'So,' said Rory Brennan, who was sitting nearby, 'what _is_ the letter about?'

'It's nothing earth-shattering,' I said, still glaring in the general vicinity of the Slytherin table. 'Just that someone broke into my house the other night. The point was it wasn't in their damned business.'

'Oh. Well…sorry your house got robbed. What'd they take?'

'That's the weird part,' I said, finally taking a big breath and allowing myself to calm down. 'I think they were after something specific…not sure what, though.'

'Oh. Well…hope they find who did it, then.'

'Thanks.' Everyone seemed to be losing interest now that the confrontation is over, except for my friends…it was closer to home for them than for the others.

'We've got to find out about this coin,' said Faolan, peering at the coin still in my hand.

Yes…we would. I felt a very queer sensation then, as if it was the beginning of something huge, a long journey that I might not like the end of. Half of me wanted to run up to Gryffindor tower, jump into bed, close the curtains, and burrow under the covers. But the other half couldn't wait to get stared, no matter where the journey ended. I ran my hand lightly over the coin's surface, then nodded, stuffing it back into my pocket.


	15. Room Revealed

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 15****: The Room Revealed**

As it turned out, we found out about the Room before we found out about the coin. It was the middle of February, after an absolutely horrible Quidditch practice. It was beastly frigid out, I had hardly been able to hold my bat, much less use it, and no one was doing very well…Aldora included. She finally had to call of practice when Evin Quigley showed her his hands; they were bright red with the beginnings of frostbite.

I was still in my Quidditch uniform, shivering and clumsy with cold, walking down a draughty, freezing corridor on the sixth floor, and thinking of nothing more than getting up to Gryffindor Tower and sitting by the fire the rest of the day. Sekhmet and Evin had gone to the hospital wing; Quigley because of the frostbite, and Sekhmet because she'd taken a bludger right to the head and had to be revived by Aldora.

I was passing by all the closed classroom doors in the hallway, paying them no mind whatsoever, when a slight creaking noise caught my attention. I stopped, mildly curious, then felt two or three hands on the sleeve of my Quidditch robe. Before I could make a sound of protest, I'd been yanked so forcefully into one of those classrooms that I sprawled onto the floor with a surprised grunt.

The door slammed as I looked around, and was greatly alarmed to see that I was surrounded by a half a dozen people, all of them with their hoods up and some sort of black cloth mask over their faces. Students, I was sure, though a couple of them looked like seventh-years, and they all had their wands out and aimed at me. My heart leapt with fear; I was more intimidated than I would ever have admitted.

I lunged for my wand, but there was no contest; they already had theirs out, and at least three of them shouted, 'Expelliarmus!' I snarled furiously as my wand went flying, and I scrambled to my feet, only to dive once more as several of the bastards aimed hexes at me. I had time only to notice that a couple of them looked awfully familiar in build before one of them shouted, 'Get him!'

My anger turned back to alarm as the lot of them lunged at me, even as I made a desperate tackle-lunge for the one who had stood between me and the door. He dodged aside, and for a moment the path to the door was clear, but then one of them tackled me around the waist, and we both crashed to the floor. I yelled as someone's booted foot sank into my side, and someone else's fist collided with the side of my face, sending stars and pain both blasting behind my eyes. I threw a blind punch, which connected solidly with someone's face, and the voice that yelled in pain sounded a lot like one of the Moor twins – those _bastards!_

I was at the bottom of the dogpile, which was lucky only in that not all of them could attack me at once, and they were not organized. All of them were trying to get a piece of me, but were getting in each other's way, which meant wasn't getting as hurt as I could.

Which wasn't saying much. I could barely see what I was doing, and every few seconds, something hit me somewhere; a boot, a fist, an elbow…. A fist like a bludger-strike landed solidly on my thigh and I let a cry of pain, fury exploding in my chest as someone laughed. That adrenaline rush suddenly heightened everything: the pain, the yells and shouts, the light in the room… Everything sharpened, the colors brightened. I let a furious roar and twisted violently around, using my feet for leverage, and drove my boots straight up at the person who was cloest to them. There was a strained grunt of pain, and one of my attackers fell away, clutching his stomach and gasping desperately for breath. One of the others turned towards him, allowing me to twist back around and get out of the way of the big bloke was had drawn back his foot to kick my hard in the side.

But it was still five against one, and if I hadn't managed to grab one of their wands, it would've been over soon. I could barely think by the time I saw it; most of them had pocketed their wands in order to use their fists, and one wand-handle was sticking out. I grabbed it, aiming it at the nearest two people and snarled, 'Petrificus Totalus!' Caught completely by surprise, both of them were caught with the spell, their arms and legs stiffening, and they fell over like two mannequins.

The remaining three – I didn't know or care who they were – stopped for just a second, shocked at what had happened. Then they lunged for their wands.

But that brief respite was enough. I lurched to my feet, tromping on the hand of the one whom I'd kicked in the breadbasket, and wrenched the door open. An agonizing pain went through my entire torso as I moved, and I let a low groan of pain, forcing the panic back, embracing the adrenaline buzz in my head.

I heard a shout behind me: one of the twins, I was certain of it. My head throbbed as I ran, looking frantically around for a teacher, even a housemate. Anyone! But there was no one in the corridors today; they were all in their warm house common rooms.

I sprinted up a flight of stairs, clenching my teeth as my knee howled in protest; someone must have hurt it somehow, but I don't remember the blow that did it. I heard several shouts from below echo that first one, and knew they'd release the two I'd cursed, and they were coming after me.

With a vicious curse, I sprinted down a blank hallway, hoping to make it to Gryffindor Tower, but I suddenly realized the bastards had split up and were coming at me from both ends of the corridor. I ran back, thinking I might make it to the staircase again, but it was too late. If only I had a place to hide!

What happened next shocked me, and as much as I like to pursue the strange and unusual, I wasn't exactly easy to shock. As I turned around to face the group I judged would break cover first, a movement to my left caught my eye. I spun around, my 'borrowed' wand at the ready, but I could only stare as I watched a door coalesce before my eyes.

I didn't stare for long; I had no clue what lay beyond the door, but it was better than what waited at either end of the corridor! I lunged for the doorknob, wrenched the door open, and sprinted inside.

Once again I was taken by surprise, though not so much that I didn't spin around and look for a key and a lock. The heavy door had both, and I made use of them, locking the door and removing the key. Then I turned back around and gaped.

The room wasn't very big, and it had a very comfortable looking chair and a little fireplace with a roaring fire in it. The entire room was pleasantly warm, and I limped over to sit in the chair…it looked as if the room had been made just for me.

A sudden pounding outside the door made me jump. 'Hey!' cried a voice outside the door. I didn't recognize it and thought it might have been one of the older students.

'Where'd the little bastard go?' came another voice, this one of the twins.

'I know he came in here,' snarled an identical voice from farther away. 'There're no classrooms up here are there? Look behind that tapestry.'

My heart thumped uncomfortably as I listened to several seconds' worth of silence, as I assumed they were searching for me. Hadn't they noticed the door? Was the door still there? It was from my side.

Another pound on the wall, slightly farther down, made me jump again. 'This isn't over, Weasley!' snarled one of the twins. 'We'll get you! We told you, you mess with us, and you regret it! Come on…let's get out of here before someone sees us.'

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath as the tension in my body suddenly released, leaving me feeling shaky and exhausted. I didn't leave right away, thinking they might be hoping to bait me out of hiding, and I wasn't sure I could convince my body to stand just yet, anyway. Now that the adrenaline was fading, the pain of the pummelling I'd just taken came back full force, like someone was turning up a knob somewhere in my brain. My entire side throbbed alarmingly, and I only then realized my nose and lip were bleeding. There was a spot on my head that hurt abominably, and though it didn't seem to be bleeding, I could tell it was bruised and raised in a lump.

I don't know how long I waited, but it seemed an awfully long time. After I listened to nothing but silence for several minutes, I bit my lip and very carefully got up out of the chair. It hurt a great deal, and my legs almost didn't want to support me, but I made it to my feet. My hand was shaking, but not that I couldn't get the door unlocked.

The corridor was deserted as I stepped out of the room, and I stood for a moment, getting my bearings. Directly in front of me was the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy…he was getting clubbed by the trolls he was trying to teach to dance ballet. I turned slowly around to see if the door was still there and I was shocked to see that it was not.

In my current state of mind I didn't make the connection. I just noted the spot then began to limp towards hospital.

Faolan met me on the way, having come down from Gryffindor Tower. When he saw me, he stopped short, blinked, then gaped. 'Cripes, what happened, Calen?' he said, running over. 'You didn't fall off your broom did you?'

I was glad to see him; I still had the wand I'd stolen out, and was ready for them to ambush me again…having Faolan there for backup was a relief. I explained quickly what happened as he slipped beneath one of my arms to help me the rest of the way to the hospital wing. Faolan was nearly speechless with fury.

Mr Jacey wasn't entirely thrilled when he caught sight of me. He also assumed I had gotten this way practicing Quidditch, and began one of his famous rants about dangerous sports and stupid broom stunts. I smiled a little as Faolan helped me over to a bed.

'He wasn't hurt in practice, Mr Jacey,' said Faolan, stopping Jacey in mid-rant.

'Then how?' asked Jacey, helping me (carefully) to take off my Quidditch gear. It took a bit longer than normal because Quidditch involved a lot of protective garments, like the leather gauntlets and forearm guards, and leg guards and boots…. Then the thick outer robe and my jumper.

I explained as I disrobed, clenching my teeth every time a sore part was moved badly. 'They didn't use any magic,' I said as I held onto Faolan so I could remove my breeches. 'Hell, they didn't need to.'

'Good,' Mr Jacey murmured, all anger gone from his voice. 'That'll make it easy to heal. Let me just have a look at you before I do anything…hold still just a moment.'

'Blimey, you look grotesque,' said Faolan, still looking appalled.

'Thanks,' I said dryly.

'They didn't pull their punches, did they?' asked Mr Jacey as he began healing the injuries. First the side, which a great relief. Aside from the pain, it had scared me. I'd never felt pain like that before, and it made me think something was seriously damaged.

'No. And I am sure I know who two of them are but I can't prove it,' I said bitterly.

'Well, we'll talk with the Headmaster,' said Jacey, holding my head still as he fixed a gash on my face, my split lip, bloody nose, and bruised eyes. 'I'm afraid your face will be fairly colourful for a few days around your eye – magic can take the swelling, pain, and actual damage, but it's not so easy to get rid of the coloration.'

'That's okay,' I said, feeling a little shaky yet once Mr Jacey was done. 'Thanks.'

'Go on up and get some rest,' said Jacey. 'I'll speak with the Headmaster.'

I was far too tired to argue.

I had to tell my story yet again to Ke'koa and Peter, and through the two-way mirrors, Arcturus. They all expressed their rage and astonishment that they would stoop so low.

'Yeah, well,' I said, lying down on my bed. 'It's the Moor twins. You know how they are. They make vengeance into an art form. They were probably just pissed off about winning at Quidditch, and that time they tried to take my mum's letter and got points off of Slytherin.'

'And that fight in Hogsmeade,' Arcturus added.

'Still, that's pretty serious, what they did,' said Peter worriedly. 'They beat you up…who knows what they would've done if you hadn't got hold of the wand?'

'Wand!' I exclaimed with an angry hiss. 'Damn it…they've still got mine…unless they left it in that room.'

'We'll look for it, mate,' said Ke'koa. 'Meanwhile, keep using that one.'

'All right…thanks.' I sighed, looking unhappily at the wand I'd taken; I didn't know what it was made of, but it was a darker coloured wood than mine. Elder wood, maybe. Mine was ash.

I hadn't meant to drift off, but the next thing I knew, I was being shaken gently awake. 'C'mon, Calen, it's time for breakfast.'

There was maybe a full minute of disorientation as I figured out exactly where I was and what happened, but as my mind cleared, I remembered the fight the day before. I winced a little, stretching; I was sore, despite Mr Jacey having healed all the actual injuries. I'd overexerted myself fighting those curs, and right after a strenuous training session, too. 'Did…did you guys find my wand?' I asked, rubbing my eyes.

'Well…kinda,' said Faolan, and I frowned, looking up.

Faolan sighed and reached over to my bedside table, picking up five smallish pieces of wood, and I realized with horror that it had once been my wand. I gaped at the piece in Faolan's hand, feeling a sort of warm heat creeping over my chest and brow. 'Those…bloody…bastards,' I hissed, taking the pieces. I was very fond of my ash-wood wand…it was wrecked beyond repair. Wands weren't made to be broken into half a dozen pieces.

'Yeah,' said Faolan. 'Yeah, they destroyed it, all right. I dunno how you're gonna get a new one…you're supposed to be there when you buy a wand so you get the one that's best suited to you.'

I stared unhappily at the remains of my wand, feeling suddenly like I wanted to cry. Ke'koa, who seemed to have just woken up himself, looked over from his bunk and mumbled something vaguely threatening towards the Slytherins, but I didn't catch what it was.

'Well…I'm gonna talk to Professor Miller later,' I said. 'I'll see…see if he'll let me get to Ollivander's somehow, or…I dunno. I guess I could just use this one. I'll figure it out.'

Faolan nodded and went to gather the books he'd need for that day's classes, and I began getting dressed.

We met up with Arcturus outside the Great Hall, and I saw that he looked as if he'd had a rough night himself. When Faolan asked what happened, he said he'd gotten into a duel with the Moors about what had happened to me. 'I had to go see Mr Jacey,' he said. 'Cuthbert levelled some kind of hex on me I'd never heard of; tore a huge gash in my arm. They both got fifty points each taken from Slytherin and three detentions. All I got was a detention for duelling.'

'We've got to do something about them,' said Faolan.

As we walked into the Great Hall and passed the Slytherin table, I glanced over, looking for the Moor twins. I slowed down, an idea occurring, and took my new wand out of my pocket, holding it up and waving it a bit so that they could see it. Neither twin changed their expression much, but one of the seventh-years snarled, and I smiled a sort of humourless smile. That must be the former owner of my wand. I decided that when I got my new one, I'd snap his in about a dozen pieces, see if he liked it.

During breakfast, the Headmaster came up to me, tapping me lightly on the shoulder. 'Good morning, Mr Weasley,' he said with a bit of a smile. 'I'd like to see you in my office after you're finished with breakfast, if you don't mind.'

'All right,' I said, figuring he wanted to ask me about the attack. I assumed Mr Jacey had already spoken to him.

Mr Miller nodded his head and went back to the staff table, and I ate a little bit faster so I could get the conversation over with.

'I hope he expels the bastards,' said Ke'koa vindictively.

'Me too,' I said. I doubted it, though; I had no proof, and all they had to do was to deny it. Still, I could hope. We were all sort of quiet as we ate; it seemed no one was in a great mood that morning.

When I finished eating, I made my way up to the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office, wondering how I was supposed to get up there. Normally, you had to have a password to get inside. But a moment later the problem was solved; I had beaten the Headmaster here, and he came walking up a moment later, smiling a little. 'Ah, Mr. Weasley,' he said. 'Good morning.'

'Good morning, sir,' I said.

Mr Miller turned to the gargoyle and said, 'For the Good.' For some reason, the words gave me a little chill of trepidation, so subtle I barely noticed it. I couldn't think why the phrase seemed so ominous, but it did. I reckoned it was probably just leftover feelings from the attack yesterday.

I followed Mr Miller up the moving spiral staircase that led to his office, wondering if it looked any different now than it had when Mr Ryan had it. When he opened the wooden door that opened onto the office itself, I had a look around.

Mr Ryan's office had been kind of boring, to tell the truth. Books, files of parchments, some uncomfortable furniture, and little else besides the portraits of former headmasters. There was a very fat wizard on a throne-like chair who waved amiably at him. There was a very old man with a beard and hair down to his waits…I think his hair was even longer than mine. A snotty looking wizard in green clothing, and round-cheeked witch… I had the urge to just stay up there was hours on end, asking them all about life at Hogwarts when they were the heads of the school.

Mr Miller's version was a bit more interesting. There were a few pictures here and there of castles and lighthouses, all of them moving in some way. There were some strange instruments here and there whose purpose I couldn't figure out. The Sorting Hat sat on its own shelf behind the Headmaster's desk. A couple of wooden trunks sat on a bookshelf along with some fat books. An owl sat on a perch and opened one eye to glare at me as I walked in. I smiled at it. 'Hello.'

'That's Winston,' said Mr Miller, stroking the bird's back.

'He's nice.'

'Thank you. Now…I have heard tell from Mr Jacey that you had a bit of a run-in with some persons unknown yesterday?'

My smile faded, and I gave a nod. 'Yes, sir, after Quidditch practice.'

'Ah. Well, have a seat, and tell me about it, Mr Weasley.'

I looked around and spotted a rather comfortable looking, straight-backed chair and sat down, going into the story of what had happened, and how I got away from them. 'They all had their faces covered,' I said disgustedly, 'and their school robes on…I guess. They were just plain black ones.' I brought out the wand I'd taken and showed it to Mr Miller. 'This is the wand I took. They snapped mine in half, and then some.'

I scowled darkly, remembering Faolan holding out the pieces of my wand.

'That's unfortunate,' said Mr Miller, frowning rather moodily at the wand in my hand. 'You say you recognized some voices?'

'Yes, sir, the Moor twins. You know, Gideon and Cuthbert Moor?'

'Yes, I am familiar with them,' said Miller. 'Unfortunately, there's no way to prove their involvement.' He sighed, rubbing a hand alongside his cheek. 'Well. You'll not get into trouble for your actions in escaping them, so don't worry about that. I will have Professor Melville keep a close eye on the Moors and their classmates—we'll do what's necessary to prevent a repeat of this incident.'

It was no less than I had expected, but far less than I had hoped for. I sighed, standing up. 'Yes, sir, thanks,' I said.

'I know…if I had my way, I'd expel the pair of them, but unfortunately, the Board of Governors wants evidence, proof…at least an eyewitness. I assume you made it to Gryffindor Tower once you'd got away from the group?'

'Oh…no, actually, I found this weird room…across from that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and those mountain trolls?' I looked up at Miller, to see if he had any idea what I was talking about, but he only looked puzzled. So I explained what happened, and that I was absolutely sure that the door hadn't been there a moment before. 'I think it's this room that Professor Forrester asked me about a few months ago,' I finished.

A strange sort of look came over Mr Miller's face, so quickly I might have imagined it. Wide-eyed surprise, or maybe eagerness, I wasn't sure. And then it was gone, mostly, leaving only the sort of gleam I saw in Faolan's eyes when he heard something that very much interested him. 'A secret room, you say? Professor Forrester asked you about it?'

'Yes, sir,' I said, watching his face carefully. 'He said it was….' I frowned, trying to remember; how _had_ he put it? 'Something about a room that appeared for people who really needed it. I'm not sure how it works, exactly, though, I really needed a way to get away from those miserable goons, and there it was.'

'How very interesting,' said Miller slowly, leaning back against the wall behind his desk. 'How very interesting, I may have to look into that. Well then…thank you for your time, Mr Weasley. I very much hope this doesn't happen again.'

'Yeah,' I said with a sort of humourless laugh. 'Me too. Bye, Professor.'

'Good day.'

I took one more look around the office before leaving it and riding the spiral staircase down to where the gargoyle stood. I watched it spring back into place, then headed back towards the Great Hall. However, the class bell rang just as I reached it, and I cursed; I was late for Defence. I ran and looked for my bag of books, but it wasn't where I had been sitting, and I hoped Ke'koa or one of the others had grabbed it. I sprinted back up the marble staircase and ran for Professor Blake's classroom.

The entire class looked at me as I entered the classroom, looking a bit harried. 'Sorry, Professor,' I said as I came in, breathing hard from my sprint.

Blake looked mildly amused. 'It's all right, Calen, Mr Miller told me you were in his office. Go ahead and have a seat.'

'Yes, sir.' Relieved I wouldn't lose points, I flopped down into a desk next to Ke'koa. I saw he had indeed brought my things, and thanked him quietly.

I wasn't sure just what Mr Miller said to the Moor twins, but they left us alone for the next several weeks; we didn't hear so much as a taunt from them. Most of us were smug, but Arcturus said that the twins had been acting very strangely since that day; more arrogant than usual, and making all sorts of sinister remarks to him in the dorms. I had to admit their sudden cessation of hostilities _was_ a bit suspect. It's not as if they ever let a scolding stop them being a huge pain in our arse before.

I didn't find out the reason for their quiet behaviour anytime soon, either. But it wasn't long after that I had a lot more to think about than the Moor twins.


	16. A New Quest

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 16: A New Quest**

I kept the wand I had taken until Spring break, when I went home for the Easter holiday. Mum and Dad took me to Diagon Alley to get a new one, though I was still angry about losing the one I had. It was twice as difficult to do any magic with it, and none of the magic worked quite so well.

The proprietor of Ollivander's wand shop was, as had always been, a descendant of the original Ollivander, and had the uncanny ability to remember every wand he'd ever sold. So he recognized me when I came in; he'd forgotten my name but knew what my wand was. Weird.

My new wand took an hour and a half to find, and I was getting so impatient I was ready just to use the one I had. But then, finally, the wand I held in my hand gave a brilliant shower of red sparks, and I couldn't help but exclaim, 'FINALLY!'

My new wand was also ash wood, but instead of a phoenix feather, like my last one, this new wand had a dragon heartstring in it. I supposed I would have to get use to it, build a sort of relationship with it. Magic wands were not sentient, per se, but they had a spirit to it. The wand truly _did_ choose the wizard, and things without spirits don't choose anything. I put the wand I had usurped in my room, deciding I would have to build a frame for it, write down the story on a parchment, and hang it on my wall. I remembered my vow to break it into several pieces but changed my mind…it could be handy to have a spare wand.

There _was_ one strange thing that happened during Easter break. Some bloke from the Ministry came to our house, wanting to talk to Mum, but wouldn't let Dad or me listen. When the visit was over with, Mum told us about it…because it was about my coin. 'He was wondering after that coin you found, Calen,' said Mum, looking worried. 'I told him you hadn't found anything like that…I don't like it.'

To say the least, I was shocked. That coin had to be in that little trunk for centuries, how could anyone possibly know about it? 'Who was he?'

'His name's Gary Sommers, he's an Unspeakable…which means I have no idea what he does. But I didn't like it. Calen…best not tell anyone except those you implicitly trust about this coin, okay? Just in case it really is the one they're after.'

'Yeah,' I said, feeling rather stunned. 'Yeah…I think that's a good idea.' I didn't sleep so well that night, either.

When we got back to school, my friends and I went back to our Quest for the Hidden Room…though we didn't have much time for it. Quidditch was practicing harder than ever, what with the final game coming up soon and Gryffindor having a chance to win it. The end-of-year Creaothceann match and the duelling tournament were coming up, also, keeping most of us very busy.

It was Arcturus who found the way. We were in the Gryffindor common room one day in April, watching Rory Brennan demonstrate a traditional Irish jig to the music one of the Gryffindor girls was playing on her fife. Rory was a pretty good dancer, too! He didn't look silly like some people did when trying to dance traditional. Ke'koa, who was sitting beside me taking it in turns to shout encouragement and good-natured insults at Rory, suddenly gave a jump and a sort of startled yelp.

'What happened?' I asked. 'Did someone goose you?'

Ke'koa snorted, peering down into the book bag sitting on the floor at his feet. 'No, I just hear Arc—'

He was cut off by a shout, this one louder, as Ke'koa opened his bag. Arcturus. I blinked, trying to figure out how that had happened, before realizing that Ke'koa must have the two-way mirror in his bag.

'Let's go into the dorms,' said Ke'koa, looking across the common room to where Peter was sitting at a table, doing some homework. 'Where's Faolan?'

'Resting,' I said quietly. 'He, er, had a rough night.' The full moon had been the night before, and then we had classes today, so he hadn't much sleep.

'Oh yeah…okay lemme see what this screaming meemie's squawking about--' I heard an indignant protest fro Ke'koa book bag— 'and you go tell Peter, okay?'

'Sure.' I watched Ke'koa steal up the stairs to the boys' dorms, and I stood up, wincing as my back cracked, then scurried over to where Peter sat, surrounded by books. 'Hey,' I said. 'Arcturus has something to tell us…you wanna come with?'

Peter winced, looking down at his homework, and regretfully shook his head. 'I can't. I've got to have this done by tomorrow…let me know what he wanted, okay?'

I was a little disappointed, but I understood; we'd all had problems getting our work done before, especially this year. 'No problem, mate,' I said. 'Good luck.' Peter gave me a distracted smile, and I sprited up the stairs.

Faolan and Arcturus were in the middle of a friendly insult match by the time I got into the dorms, and I listened for a while. One thing Arcturus was extremely creative in was insults; he must have learned them from his family.

'Peter's got to finish his work,' I said. 'It's for Charms, it looked like, and you know how Melville is.'

'Yeah, she's a nasty old cow,' answered Arcturus from the mirror, and I laughed.

'Yeah. So…what's up, anyway?' I walked over to where Ke'koa had the mirror propped up on his pillow, and saw that Arcturus looked painfully excited. Faolan was sitting on the bed, looking pale and tired.

'I've figured it out!' he exclaimed.

Faolan's expression lit up excitedly despite his obvious fatigue, but Ke'koa looked as confused as I felt. 'What?' I asked. 'Figured out what?'

Arcturus looked completely exasperated at out stupidity. 'The Room, you git! _The_ Room!'

Any indignation I felt at being called a git was completely eclipsed by the great excitement that clenched me around the chest. 'What? What's the secret? How do you do it?'

'Meet me outside that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy,' said Arcturus with a huge grin. 'We've got a half hour before curfew; we've got plenty of time. I'll have to show you!'

'We'll be there!' promised Faolan.

'See you there!' And with a flash of his dark hair, Arcturus was gone from the mirror, which then turned dark.

'Well?' said Faolan, lurching up from the bed and literally bouncing in place. The weariness that had dragged him down only moments ago had gone into hiding; if anything could energize him, it was the promise of a mystery solved. 'Let's go!'

'Before he explodes,' said Ke'koa, and I laughed as I followed Faolan, out the door and down the stairs.

The three of us got some weird looks as we ran across the common room, probably looking madly gleeful, but I was used to weird looks. We weren't exactly known for being normal, after all. I sprinted over to Peter, whispering what was up, and felt bad at the look of indecision that passed over his face.

'Oh…blazes. I can finish when I get back.' I grinned as Peter shut his books, shoved them into his bag, and stood up from his chair. 'Who needs sleep, anyway?'

I laughed, and Peter and I ran to catch up with Faolan and Ke'koa. I was just glad that the entrance to Gryffindor Tower was on the seventh floor; we had no more stairs to go down once we were out of the dorms, and were in front of the tapestry in no time.

Peter sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall, as the four of us speculated on what you might have to do to get into the room. Arcturus joined us at a run five or ten minutes later, panting for breath and clutching his side. His face was twisted in an expression of discomfort.

'I've got a bloody stitch in my side the size of London,' he gasped as he flopped down next to Faolan.

'The size of London?' I repeated, raising my eyebrows. 'Sounds like you've got a real problem.'

'So how do you get in?' asked Faolan eagerly, and the rest of us laughed.

'Let the poor man catch his breath, furball,' said Ke'koa, ruffling Faolan's hair. I had to clap a hand over my mouth to stop a loud guffaw…I couldn't remember Ke'koa calling Faolan a furball before.

Faolan grimaced, looking quickly around them, his expression one of alarm. 'Not so loud!' he hissed.

'Oh go on, there's no one here,' said Ke'koa. 'And if they were, they'd not know what I was talking about. Besides, you are…you're a cute little furball.'

Faolan finally laughed at the expression on Ke'koa's face; Ke'koa could almost always get him to laugh. I grinned and ruffled Faolan's hair, too. 'Don't you love having friends who adore you so?' I asked. Faolan snorted in a decidedly sceptical way.

Arcturus finally gave a groan, hauling himself to his feet and stretching to the side. 'Why can't you bloody Gryffindors have a common room closer to ours?' he complained.

'Well we usually try to stay as far as possible from the snake pit,' said Ke'koa with a grin.

'So if I'm a furball, what's that make the snake?' asked Faolan, smiling tiredly up at Arcturus. 'A scaleball?'

'Scaleball, cute,' said Arcturus, glancing down at Faolan from behind half-lowered lids. 'Just for that, I ought not to tell you what I've discovered.'

'Awww, you wouldn't!' Faolan exclaimed from the floor, and he looked so pitiful that Arcturus had to laugh, his expression softening. I recognized that look, too; Kian could always melt me when he turned his big eyes up at me and acted pitiful. But Faolan never did it on purpose; his was a natural skill.

'All right, all right…no need to get all teary-eyed,' said Arcturus in amused exasperation. 'It's actually simple…we were looking for a spell or something, or a password…it's not. Calen, when you were going back and forth, looking for a way out…that's what's needed. You've got to pace in front of the door, concentrating on what you need. Three passes. Watch.'

Arcturus closed his eyes for a moment, focusing, then opened them and began walking back and forth directly across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Peter let a startled cry as the lines of a door began to draw themselves in the wall, finally solidifying in a wooden portal with a big, brass handle. Looking immensely pleased with himself, Arcturus opened the door with a flourish and bowed us inside.

The Room looked vastly different from how it had looked when I was last inside it. Instead, it looked like sort of a miniature hospital wing, with two beds, a small cabinet against the wall, and three comfortable looking chairs. Arcturus went right to one of the beds and flopped down onto it.

'Oh, brilliant,' said Faolan and lay down on the second bed.

I laughed in amazement and turned to the others. 'Guess the chairs are for us?'

'This room supplies what you need,' said Arcturus from his bed. 'I'd bet there's some sort of energizing potion in that cabinet over there…I certainly need one!'

'This is major-league magic!' I said, awed, as Ke'koa went over to see if Arcturus was right about the potion. 'When I found it by accident, there was a roaring fire…I was freezing from Quiddtich practice, and a soft chair to rest in while I waited for the Slytherins to leave.'

'Pepper-Up potion!' Ke'koa exclaimed. He brought out two small bottles and handed them to Faolan and Arcturus. 'I'd wait until you ere in your dorms, though. Just in case someone asks where we got it from.'

'I wonder how it works,' mused Peter, wandering slowly around the room and looking everything over. He kept rapping on the walls and beds, as if he suspected they might be merely illusion. 'It's…conjuring magic, or…or some kind of Transfiguration.'

'And Summoning,' said Ke'koa, looking at the potions. 'D'you think it brings the objects from elsewhere, or if it turns items into the ones you need, or….'

'I've got to research this room,' said Peter. 'This is amazing. What did your ancestor call it, Calen? The Room of…?'

'Requirement,' I finished.

'Now that we know how to use it and what it's called, I bet we could find it in a book,' said Peter with a grin. 'I'm gonna try…starting tomorrow. For now, though, we should get back to our common rooms…we don't wanna get caught out here past curfew.'

'You're awesome, mate,' said Ke'koa with a laugh as Arcturus literally rolled out of the bed and got onto his feet.

'I know,' said Arcturus smugly. 'See, I'm not all bogged down with practices, so I had plenty of time to figure it out. Not that my magnificent brain needed so much time.'

'Ha!' said I. 'I'd hardly call not having a life something to boast of.' Sometimes Arcturus was in dire need of an ego harpoon. We were still bantering as we walked down the seventh-floor corridor, towards the stairs Arcturus would take to get back down to the dungeons.

'This place needs a lift or three,' I said as we rounded the corner.

I stopped short as a tall figured loomed before me, and I blinked in mild alarm. I stumbled back onto Faolan's foot, and Faolan protested with a yelp.

The figure before me looked just as surprised as we were, and once I got over my surprise, I saw it was Professor Forrester. 'Er, hi, Professor,' I said, blinking and removing myself from on top of Faolan's foot. 'Sorry,' I murmured back to him.

'Evening, boys,' said Forrester. Looking taken aback. 'What are you all doing here?'

Ke'koa seemed about to reply, but for some reason, I suddenly didn't want Forrester to know what we'd been up to. 'Arcturus was visiting us,' I said. 'He's just heading back down so he won't be late. How about you?'

'Oh, I was just taking a stroll,' said Forrester with a bit of a strained grin. 'I'll not keep you, then…see you in class tomorrow.' He clapped me on the back and walked on, walking casually across the corridor…but I saw him glance at the wall opposite Barnaby's tapestry, as if unable to help it. My first thought was that he had just lied through his teeth.

Ke'koa, Faolan, Peter, and Arcturus were all looking between me and Professor Forrester's retreating form. 'Er, I gotta go,' said Arcturus. 'I'll be late…I'll get back on the mirror, okay?'

'Okay,' I said. 'We should get back too…see you in a bit.'

Professor Forrester was gone by the time we headed back that way, which had me a bit uneased. Why did he lie? And why did he have the idea that he was looking for Room we'd just figure out how to work? When we were all safely back in our dorms, I told the others what I thought, and said that I wasn't sure I wanted to tell him what we'd found out.

'How'd he know it was up here anyway?' asked Ke'koa. 'None of us told him yet, did we?'

'We didn't tell _anyone_,' said Peter. 'Did we?'

At Peter's question, I suddenly remembered the day I was called into the Headmaster's office to talk about the Moor twins' attack on me…I had told him about it! I mentioned this to my friends, shaking my head a little. 'I guess he mentioned it to Forrester.'

'Weird,' said Peter with a yawn. 'Look, I've got to get that project finished, and get to bed…I'll see you all tomorrow.'

'Yeah…see you tomorrow, Peter,' I said.

'Well, and what are we worrying about, anyway?' said Ke'koa. 'What o we care if the teachers use it? It's been around for ages, probably loads of people have used that room.'

He had a point…certainly old Fred Weasley had used it when he went here. 'Yeah, you're right,' I said. I looked over at Faolan, but he had already fallen asleep on his bed. 'So much for taking that Pepper-Up potion,' I said with a laugh.

Ke'koa took a look around to make sure no one else was in the dorm with us, then said, 'Man. I can't imagine going through what he goes through every month.' Frowning a bit, he stood up and went over to where Faolan lay, his legs hanging off his bunk. I saw what Ke'koa meant to do and went over to help him with it, carefully moving Faolan over so he was lying on the bed properly.

'I can't either,' I said as Ke'koa drew the blanket over Faolan. 'Aside from not getting any sleep all night, then usually having to go to classes the next day…I wonder what it feels like.'

'I'm not sure I want to know,' said Ke'koa. 'Come on…we might as well get some sleep, too.'

'Yeah.' I looked at Faolan a moment longer, trying to imagine what it felt like to turn into a vicious, four-legged beast, and had trouble doing it. Finally I went back to my own bunk, changed into my pyjamas, and lay down…but I did not sleep.

At first my thoughts ran endlessly on about werewolves, and what it must have been like for Faolan to be bitten by one, and what he had to endure once a month. I heard Rory and Dragomir come into the room and get ready for the bed, and I was still wide awake. From werewolves, my train of thought drifted to the Room of Requirement, the mystery that was at last solved. If Arcturus was right, if you really could get anything you needed in that room, the possibilities were endless.

My thoughts then went to Christmas, and the trunk I had found in the attic, and the strange coin replica. Wesley. Creirwy Wesley. Hadn't I wondered who he might be? Or was it a she? Then it occurred to me: I could use that Room to find out about my coin!

With this intriguing prospect in mind, I turned over and closed my eyes, finally falling asleep.


	17. The First Battle

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 17: A New Quest**

I began my new Quest the next day. I hadn't a name for it, but it was a Quest all the same. Whenever I had free time, when I wasn't practicing or doing homework, or causing mischief with my friends, I was in that wonderful Room of Requirement, researching the history of my little coin. I had hoped for _something_ when I went to that room and asked for help in identifying my coin, but what I got exceeded all of my expectations.

For just a moment, when I first walked in, I thought that perhaps I had made a mistake and walked into the school library, but that wasn't the case. It wasn't as big as the Hogwarts library, but infinitely more useful for what I wanted. There were half a dozen bookshelves inside, with dozens of books mostly relating to old coins and the history of wizarding England in the time period of the day on my replica coin. I noticed a shelf full of books about Dark wizards, which puzzled me a bit, but I didn't mind at all; they looked very interesting.

In the corner was a stand with a huge, old tome on it of the Weasley family history, dating back to before the Dark Ages. I wasn't quite sure what our family had to do with it all, but there it was.

'Brilliant,' I whispered, unable to do anything for the moment except stare in awe.

Once I was over my shock, I went straight for the old tome, grabbing the stool that sat nearby, sitting on it as I opened the book. Curious, I turned first to the most recent pages, looking in astonishment at the names of my mother and father, and their brothers and sisters. My brothers and I weren't there, and I figured that we were too recent in the history for anyone to have recorded.

I never even got to the coin books that day; I was too immersed in the family tree I had found. I never knew just how big the Weasley clan was until I read that book, gazing at name upon name across hundreds of pages. Each name had a brief biography, including siblings, parents, children, and spouses…if any. There were those who were marked in green ink, an indication that they had been a Dark witch or wizard.

For a moment I was shocked that our family had Dark wizards in it, but then I felt a bit silly for assuming that none of these hundreds of people could have gone bad. Reading about all these people I was related to, if somewhat distantly, was immensely interesting. So interesting, in fact, that I was late for curfew that night.

As I realized how late it was, I finally tore myself away from the book, cursing myself for having lost track of time, and ran for Gryffindor Tower. Unfortunately, I met up with Professor Melville right outside the Fat Lady's portrait, and she took twenty points from Gryffindor. And she gave me a detention. I was calling her all sorts of rude names when I got up to the dorms.

After that, I began bringing an alarm clock in with me, so I couldn't make that mistake again!

What I found in that room was fascinating, and a little frightening. For the time being, I stuck with the family tree, going back so far that all of a sudden in a session near the end of April, I wasn't looking at Weasleys, but Wesleys. I blinked, thinking the person who had written the book must have missed out a letter, but as I turned back, more and more names were spelled 'Wesley.' Around the year 1300, I found a notation indicating that the family name had been misspelled a few times, giving it the 'Weasley' spelling, and that subsequent generations had kept the alternate spelling in. I knew that at one point in Britain, spelling was a very anomalous thing, vaguely reflecting the phonetics of a word. Apparently someone thought that 'Weasley' sounded the same as 'Wesley', and so our family name was changed forever.

I was kind of glad; Weasley was more interesting.

'But that means….' I whispered, standing up and digging in my pocket for my tricoin. I held the coin up to the lamp hanging from the ceiling: Creirwy Wesley. 'This was minted by a member of my family!'

With renewed vigour, I began paging through the names, searching for a Creirwy Wesley, beginning with the year 1193 and going back from there. When I finally found the name I was looking for, I stared: the name was in green ink. I picked the tricoin up once more, holding it up and looking at it…the person that had minted the original coin had been a Dark witch!

When I traced her lineage, I found a yet more disturbing thing: I was in her direct line. I lost track of how many generations had gone by, but from her, to her children, and from parent to child the entire way, I was a direct descendant of her. It was an odd and disturbing coincident, that I had this coin replica. I was beginning to think more and more that it was no replica.

'Well,' I murmured. 'That explains that Dark magic books.'

I told my friends about what I had found out, explaining about the book and about the other things that were in that room. Arcturus, more than the others, sympathized about my having a Dark mage in the family. His whole family was full of those!

Over the next few weeks, whenever I had a chance, I went into that room and read about Creirwy Wesley, to figure out just what she had done to earn herself a name in green ink. And the more I read, the more I realized the question more easily answered was what _hadn't_ she done? Voldemort was probably more vicious and evil than her…but not by much. And he hadn't gotten much of a chance to do half the evil things this woman had done.

She had murdered several key Muggle leaders in England, kicking off a period so rife with civil war it was known as The Anarchy. She murdered the head of the Wizards' Council (the precursor to the ministry of Magic) and most of his loyal followers, allowing her to put her own people within the government; that was one of the worst periods in history for Muggle-born and half-blood wizards, building on the pure-blood mania that Salazaar Slytherin himself had begun and which persisted until nearly the turn of the twenty-first century. I was astonished to find she had been the creator of one of the Unforgivable Curses, a set of three curses considered the worst among wizarding kind: the Killing Curse, the Imperius Curse, and the Cruciatus Curse…that last being a curse that inflicted such unspeakable pain that prolonged application could drive the victim into permanent madness. And, of course, that just happened to be the one she'd invented…I thought it might even have been nmed after her. 'Cruciatus' and 'Creirwy' looked a bit too much alike to be coincidence.

But the worst thing she'd done, at last the one that seems to have caused the most suffering, was the conquest of Ireland by the Normans. Dermot MacMurrough had been Creirwy Wesley's right-hand man, helping to carry out several of her vilest orders. When he was ousted as the king of Ireland, cast out when it was discovered that he was a wizard (which they considered at that time to be a spawn of hell), they went to King Henry the Second, of England. It was only a matter of a few well-placed Imperius Curses to ensure the might of the royal armies was set against Ireland, implementing English rule over the country.

It was horrifying and fascinating at the same time…but it didn't give me any more insight as to what that coin of mine might be based off of. But as the end of the school year began to loom ever closer, the times I could come in and research were less and less.

The Quidditch finals were at the end of May, but Gryffindor hadn't made it that far…the match was between Hufflepuff and Slytherin, and though Hufflepuff won it, I couldn't make myself be too ecstatic about it—I had wanted badly to at least play in the finals. Sekhmet suggested transporting the Slytherin team to Siberia, and I admit the idea had some merit, but it was a moot point: the finals were already over. Aldora hadn't taken it too well, either; she'd hardly spoke a word since we lost that last game to Ravenclaw.

Ke'koa's team had their finals the next week, against Hufflepuff also, and they didn't win, either. Apparently it was Hufflepuff's year for broom sports.

After Quidditch, there were exams to study for, and then the exams themselves. It bothered me, knowing there was a whole room full of information in there for me to peruse at my leisure…and not have any leisure with which to peruse! I couldn't wait for the end of exams, when I would have a whole week without classes, sports, or tests.

The tests themselves weren't too bad…no worse than usual, anyway. My best by far was Defence, and I got top marks in that. Charms was probably my least, because of the teacher; it was difficult to learn anything from a woman I hated. Though History of Magic was a close second. Still, all of us managed to pass our exams. Unfortunately, the Moor twins and their little friends passed, too. The lot of us always hope each year that by some strange miracle, they'd fail all their exams and have to leave school…or at least stay back a grade where we wouldn't have to deal with them as much!

And then…freedom. The first couple of days after exams we spent outside, enjoying the bright sunshine, swimming in the lake, and revelling in the lack of classes. It wasn't until the third day that I tried to get into the Room…and it didn't appear. I thought that maybe I was doing it wrong, but I tried several times, and still couldn't get in. I was puzzled, but no one had any suggestions, other than to try later. I was annoyed, but it was the only thing I could do.

It wasn't until two days before term ended that I was able to get back into the Room, and I was pretty sure I was only able to do it because I snuck out at night, when I assumed everyone else was sleeping. Again glad that the Room of Requirement and the entrance to Gryffindor Tower were on the same floor, I snuck along the deserted corridors towards the blank hallway across from old Barnabas and his trolls.

_I need to research the coin,_ I thought as I paced along the hallway. _I need to research Creirwy's coin._

I half expected the room to be shut to me, as usual, but I was in for a pleasant surprise; the now-familiar lines began appearing on the wall, as if drawn by an invisible quill, marking the outline of the door. When it solidified into wood, I grinned and grasped the handle.

When I stepped inside, I saw the lamps were lit as always, but the book with the Weasley family tree was open. That was odd; it had never been opened before when I entered; it was always neatly closed. I didn't think _too_ much of it at first; maybe there was something the Room felt I needed to see.

I took a step forward, and suddenly a shape loomed in front of me, and my chest tightened suddenly, painfully, in alarm. I gave a startled yell, heard a curse, and stumbled backwards several steps until I collided lightly into the wall behind me. There was someone else inside!

My first reaction was to run, but as the figure also took a step back and his face came into the lamplight, I saw it was one of the teachers…Professor O'Malley…who taught Muggle Studies. It was too much to hope for that he would not have recognized me. I wondered wildly if he'd been here waiting for me, knowing somehow that I was going to break the rules, but as I got a good look at him I realized that he was almost as shocked at seeing me as I had been of seeing him.

'P-professor O'Malley!' I managed to stutter. 'Er, I…I can explain.'

'Can you?' said Professor O'Malley, taking a big breath. His eyes were still wide, but now he looked more angry than surprised. I wasn't entirely sure I liked it. The Room seemed suddenly to be much more sinister than usual, the lamplight casting long shadows from the shelves, shadows that danced eerily on the ceiling and walls. 'How interesting that you managed to get in here.'

I blinked, a little puzzled by the statement. 'Er…sir?' I said.

O'Malley looked me over for a moment, and I felt the urge to squirm uncomfortably…though I stayed the urge. 'Yes, interesting…you know you can't get into this Room while another person is using it…unless you intend to use it for the same thing.'

I gaped at him for I don't know how long…was _that_ why I hadn't been able to get into the Room? Had someone else been using it for something else? Another thought occurred to me, also; if what he said was true…then Professor O'Malley was in here researching my family tree…or the coin…or both. And what's more, he knew that _I_ was doing the same. 'You…you're looking up my family?' I finally managed to ask, taking a step closer to the door.

O'Malley frowned, then suddenly looked furious with himself, and I realized he hadn't meant to expose his own intentions. 'I think I should be the one asking the questions, Mr Weasley. Beginning with how you found out about this Room.'

The answer to that was complicated, and I wasn't sure I wanted to give it. Professor O'Malley was looking downright alarming, and all of a sudden I very much wanted to be out of the Room and back in Gryffindor Tower. 'Sir, I…I think I should be getting bac--'

I hadn't so much finished the sentence, when Professor O'Malley took two large, sudden steps forward, grabbed my by the lapel of my pyjamas, and pulled me so that we were nearly nose to nose. 'Answer me, Weasley!' he snarled.

My heart, which had begun to calm down, began pumping hard again, and I began to get scared; this just wasn't normal! What was I supposed to do? I stammered for a minute, trying to find words, before I managed to say, 'P-Professor Forrester mentioned it! We figured the rest out ourselves!' Not completely honest, but I wasn't about to go into the whole thing, not to this madman!

O'Malley narrowed his eyes and let go of my pyjamas, taking a step back and sneering. 'Forrester, that--'

But I didn't stick around to hear what he had to say. The second his hands left my clothing, I lunged for the door, taking five sprint-steps and nearly leaping at the doorhandle.

'Colloportus!' cried O'Malley, as I twisted the doorknob, letting a growl of fearful anger when the doorhandle didn't budge; whatever O'Malley had said, it had locked the door tight. 'We're not done, Weasley!'

I dashed away from the door, ducking behind one of the shelves, listening hard, trying to swallow the panic that threatened to completely lose my mind for me. I saw the flickering shadow that belonged to Professor O'Malley move towards me, and I retreated further, behind the last of the bookshelves. 'What do you _want?_'

'Just a bit of information, Weasley,' said O'Malley, his tone calm again. 'Why don't we sit down for a bit and talk? Once we've finished our conversation like civilised gentlemen, you can go on back to Gryffindor Tower. You won't even get detention. How's that sound?'

It was vaguely tempting; I didn't know why my family should suddenly be a hot topic with the Muggle Studies teacher, but I didn't really know anything that couldn't be found in these books. If it got me out of this….

But there was something about it I didn't like. He wasn't acting like a teacher, and I was pretty sure that how he'd treated me thus far would be frowned on by the board of governors. Why would he just…let me leave? 'I-I think I'd rather go now, Professor,' I managed to squeak out. It wasn't easy; my throat felt tight and I was breathing so fast with fear I was afraid I'd faint.

O'Malley's voice was low and grimly amused. 'Oh, but you don't have a choice. Reducto!'

The bookcase beside me suddenly exploded into splinters, and I yelled in both pain and shock as several of them stuck into my skin or scraped it as they flew by. I squeezed my eyes shut, ducking as if it was a really large bludger was hurtling at my head, and scrambled out of the way, scurrying to the opposite end of the room. I couldn't believe this; I couldn't believe I was being attacked by a teacher! He was bloody insane, he had to be! I grimaced as he turned his wand on the other shelves, obliterating them, then blasted the stand on which the Weasley Family Tome sat.

_Gods, I need help! _I thought desperately. I stood, my muscles quivering, ready to move in a split second if I had to, every nerve in my body jangling. But O'Malley did not attack again, he only regarded me calmly from the other side of the room; now that all the possible items of cover were now in hundreds of pieces on the floor, he seemed content to stay his wand for the moment.

'Now,' said O'Malley pleasantly, as if we were just sitting down to tea. 'This coin your ancestor minted….'

I swallowed hard; maybe I could bluff myself out of this. 'What—what coin?' I managed to ask, my voice sounding high and strained in my ears.

O'Malley chuckled. ''What coin' you say? Did you forget, already? That you got in here while I was in here means that you came here searching for the same thing. Let's not pretend anymore? I have only a small amount of patience, you see.'

His words were still calm, but the threat behind them was evident. 'I-I was…I've been in here researching my family tree.' I nodded shakily to the large book now lying open on the floor, its pages squished beneath its weight. That had to sound at least plausible…didn't it? 'The Room always looks like this.'

'Oh? Just like this?' murmured O'Malley, taking a step forward. I clenched my fists, taking a step to the side, but he didn't approach me; in fact he was looking on the ground. 'Yes I see… Dark magic, Dark mages, family trees…and coin collecting! What a strange book to appear for someone wishing only to researching his family tree.'

His grim look fell pointedly on me and I scowled, irritated with myself…the hell with it. I was never a good liar, anyway. 'Okay fine, maybe I've been researching coins, too. I collect them. What's—what's it to you?'

O'Malley suddenly smiled, a knowing, conspiratorial sort of smile. 'Well…just maybe I'll tell you if you cooperate, kid. That coin of yours isn't exactly normal…surely you must have realized it.'

_He knows I have it,_ I thought suddenly. And he didn't just suspect; he knew, somehow. But how? In a flash, I remembered the break-in at my house, how they'd taken the wooden trunk and nothing else, and the visit from that man during Easter break. O'Malley had to be involved somehow…but it wasn't making any sense! 'I—I thought it wasn't normal, yeah,' I said finally, watching O'Malley carefully. I didn't trust that smile one bit. 'I thought it was a replica because it's not shown any wearing. And it was too old to look brand-new, whether it was circulated or not.'

Despite himself, O'Malley looked surprised, maybe slightly impressed. 'Well, you're a bit cleverer than I thought—you obviously know your hobby well,' he said, relaxing his stance a little bit; but he didn't put away his wand, which I didn't much like. I had mine with me, not knowing if I needed it on me to get into the Room or not, but I wasn't sure if I could bring myself to attack a teacher.

I shrugged a little, brushing some of my hair out of my face, hissing as I disturbed a small splinter of wood that was still stuck in my skin. I pulled it out with a grimace. 'What do you want?' I asked again.

'Well.' O'Malley smirked, using his wand to conjure up a chair for him to sit in, and conjured a second one for me. 'Have a seat.'

The last thing I felt like doing was sitting down around this bloke. 'No thanks…I'm fine here.'

He shrugged, dispelling the chair. 'Have it your way. What I want is to know just how you found that coin. And don't try pretending you haven't got it, Weasley. I know you have. You're a very poor liar, you know.'

I scowled, feeling my ears go pink, but I didn't say anything…what was I _supposed_ to say? 'I found it in the attic,' I said. 'My ancestor minted the coin.'

Looking perfectly amiable now that I was telling him what he wanted to hear (or thought I was), O'Malley made a sort of 'continue' gesture with his hand. 'Go on. Did you recognize it for what it was?'

What did _that_ mean? 'If you mean, did I know it was special…no. If mean did I know it was a tricoin, yeah. I've never seen one except in pictures, but I knew it.'

'Ah, I see…and where is that coin now?'

I tensed, but tried very hard to appear nonchalant…there was no way I was going to tell him it was upstairs on my bedside table, where I usually kept my wand. 'I gave it to my mum – she works for the Ministry – I thought she might be able to find out if it was real or no--'

Before I could finish, Professor O'Malley leapt to his feet, growling angrily, and aimed his wand at me. I ducked, but not in time to avoid his spell, a spell I had never heard before: 'Legilimens!'

At first I felt nothing, and I thought I'd avoided the spell, then something strange began to happen, something I'd never experienced; my vision seemed to go unfocused, and thoughts and visions began sliding through my mind, like a picture show, things I had not brought to mind! A vision of the wooden trunk lying on the floor passed by, as Arcturus and I snuck up on it; a conversation with Aldora about the Quidditch finals I'd had a couple of days ago; a prank Faolan had played on me involving an exploding wand; and the coin again…holding it n my hands, running my thumb over its inscription, putting it in my pocket…. I tried desperately to keep the images from coming, but they were beyond my control, honing more and more tightly in on the coin, and where it was….

My panic broke and I yanked my wand out of my pocket, and cried, 'Impedimenta!' It was the easiest spell I could think of, as frantic as I was, the only thing I could manage to throw at O'Malley that could stop this terrifying influence over my own mind.

O'Malley let a cry of surprise and the barrage of images stopped abruptly, my vision focusing, my mind clearing. I shook my head hard, looking wildly around, seeing O'Malley staggering back against the wall and levelling a furious glare at me.

I didn't wait around to see what happened next; I aimed my wand wildly at the door. 'Alohomora!' It was a spell I had learned my first year, and, to my immense gratitude, it worked.

I wrenched the door open as O'Malley snarled behind me, 'Stupefy!' I bolted out of the door, and the curse hit the doorframe, smashing a hole in the frame and sending more splinters flying everywhere. I didn't look back; I only ran, knowing I couldn't possibly defeat a teacher in a duel, non matter what I'd learned in Duelling Club. I had to find someone, I had to get help, I had to get to _safety_ somewhere!

To my horror, footsteps behind me told me that O'Malley was coming after me. As I reached the end of the corridor, I looked back once, my heart leaping painfully to see him level his wand at me again. I ducked around the corner, trying to coax my legs to move just a little faster, pushing them to their limits. I was fast on a broom, not on my feet!

It was three in the morning, and the corridor were deserted, nothing but stretches of hallway, lined with empty classrooms. Increasingly desperate, I burst through one, locking the door from the inside, and ran to the teacher's desk, intending to hid beneath it. But I wasn't fast enough. The door behind me blew open, and I had only time to spin around before a hex from O'Malley knocked me off my feet, sending me sprawling across the stone floor. I spun around, clutching my wand, but a well-aimed Disarming Spell tore it from my hand and into his.

O'Malley threw my wand aside as I scrambled to my feet, backing up towards the corner and understanding for the first time in my life how a trapped animal felt. 'Leave me _alone!'_

'I'll get the truth out of you if I have to rip it out of your head!' O'Malley roared, making a jerky movement with his wand.

I felt an invisible hand grab me and throw me across the room. I landed hard on the floor, and a sharp pain shot through my side as my shoulder was wrenched; I let a yell of pain as I slid, crashing headlong into one of the desks. I was suddenly afraid he was going to kill me – at the very least hurt me badly before anyone even knew what was happening. 'Y-you'll get caught, you can't just—just do this!' I cried as I staggered to my feet once more, my hand against the wall to steady myself; I felt somehow dizzy and unsteady on me feet.

O'Malley smirked. 'And who's going to hear us? No portraits, no offices, and we're quite away from Gryffindor Tower…you want to reconsider telling me what I want, Weasley. This can be a lot more unpleasant for you.'

But I did not reply; I had heard something, something I hoped wasn't just a hallucination. But O'Malley heard it, too: footsteps in the hall. O'Malley's eyes widened as he spun, meeting the figure who burst through the door looking furious: Professor Blake! And right behind him, the Headmaster!


	18. Answers and Questions

**The Welshman**  
by Hyena Cub  
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.  
Genre: Harry Potter

--

**CHAPTER 18****: Answers and Questions**

'STUPEFY!' cried Blake furiously, and I gaped as a red jet of light seared at O'Malley's chest, and he collapsed, out cold by the look of it. I had never seen Professor Blake use his wand for anything other than class work or mundane tasks. I stared at O'Malley for a second, then at Professor Blake, who looked more furious than I had ever seen; his pink eyes were wide with fury, and I was almost afraid of him. 'Calen…are you all right?' he asked, his voice soft and urgent, as he walked quickly over to me.

For a few moments, I could only stammer as he looked me over. Finally I managed to blurt, 'How'd you know?'

'One of the portraits woke me in my chambers,' said Blake. He smiled very wanly. 'He very rudely shoved aside a portrait of my father, who is still complaining about it at this moment I'm sure. Are you hurt?'

'N-no,' I said. 'Well, just a little…not worse than Quidditch. But…. He was in the Room of Requirement, that secret room, we found it…'

I saw Miller's head rise sharply, his eyes widening just a bit, then the expression was gone. I thought nothing of it, especially when he said, 'I can't believe… I never knew why he was so interested. I didn't think there'd be harm in telling him what you told me about that room.'

Oh, great…it was thanks to me, however indirectly, that the git was in there in the first place!

'Come on, Calen,' said Professor Blake. He put an arm around my shoulders, guiding me towards the door. 'Let's let Mr Jacey look you over, just in case, and if you feel like it, you can tell me the story.'

Nothing else sounded so good to me right then. 'Okay.' I finally got moving, looking a bit dazedly at the floor for my wand; it was over in a corner where O'Malley had thrown it. I crouched to grab it, only now beginning to shake. Why I should react this way once everything was over didn't make much sense.

'The whole story,' said Blake in a low voice, almost to himself it seemed, as he led me out of the room. I wondered about that. I wondered if even then he knew something was weird. 'I suppose you did have a reason for being out of bed?'

In all the furore, I'd forgotten I was only in this mess because I'd snuck out, and my ears went hot. 'Well, yes, sir. But…not a reason that'd stop you giving me detention,' I said with a laugh that sounded a bit hysterical to me.

'Well, I think in this case I think we can forget about the detention,' said Blake, still looking worriedly at me as I limped along the corridor. 'Did he hex you? Was any damage magical?'

'No, sir—at least I don't think so.' I tried to think back over the last few minutes, but it was a whole lot of chaos and not much sense. But I didn't think I'd been hit by a curse. Well, I had, but the damage itself wasn't caused by the curse. 'No he just threw me across the room.'

Blake made a low sound, not quite a growl, and I looked up at him. He was still furious, with O'Malley I realized, not me. 'How Miller could've let that one in this school is beyond me. Miller'll be lucky to keep his job after this…he could've killed you.'

I was startled by this; _could_ he have killed me? _Would_ he have? 'I, er, think I'm glad he didn't.'

'As am I,' said Professor Blake, as we reached the hospital wing. He opened the door for me and I thanked him, limping inside and feeling suddenly exhausted.

Mr Jacey obviously knew what was going on, because he was there and waiting with a worried look on his face. 'Well come on in, Mr Weasley,' he said, and I went in and sat down on a bunk. The hospital wing was a place I was familiar with, what with Quidditch and Duelling Club, but that didn't mean I liked being there.

'Nothing magical, Mark,' said Blake, making me blink. I never knew Mr Jacey's first name. 'Just mundane damage, luckily.'

'Oh good,' said Jacey, looking me over to see what was wrong. 'It was O'Malley that did it, you say?'

'Yes,' said Blake before I could answer. 'I've left him with Cory, upstairs.' I wasn't sure who Cory was at first, before realizing that it must be Professor Miller. Guess this was my night for learning the teachers' first names; Blake's I already knew.

'Well why the blazes did he attack a student?'

I cut in first this time, before Professor Blake could. 'Because he's a complete nutter!'

Blake sort of nodded in agreement. 'I'm beginning to think that's just it.'

'Well, Professor Miller ought to be a bit more careful when appointing his teachers, oughtn't he?' grouched Mr Jacey as he went about fixing my minor injuries. 'I'll want you to rest here the night, Weasley…all right?'

'Okay,' I said, breathing a sigh of relief as the various aches disappeared. 'Thanks, Mr Jacey.'

'All right. Now take this potion here…it's a Calming Draught. That'll help you relax and get some rest…Lachlan, I imagine you'll want to talk with him, but don't do it too long, okay? He needs rest.'

Blake actually smiled a little, nodding his head in assent. 'I won't Mark, you know me better than that.'

'Yeah, I guess I do. Well, night then.'

I took up the bottle Mr Jacey had left, sniffing it; it smelled like old tyres to me. Professor Blake waited until I had reluctantly downed it before speaking. 'You feel up to telling me what happened, Calen?'

The potion worked immediately, like most of Mr Jacey's potions. My jangling nerves settled, my shaking abated, and my muscles began to unknot. 'Yeah…yeah I do,' I said. I thought for just a moment before deciding to tell him everything…from the first time Forrester asked me about the Room, to finding that trunk in the attic, and even about the booby trap that nearly got me. I told about how our house was broken into, and the man that had come there during Easter break, and about Fred Weasley's journal, and how Arcturus figured out how to work the room. I told him all the stuff I had researched in the Room, and of how I had the coin O'Malley was looking for up in my dorm, but didn't know what was so special about it.

Finally I went into what happened tonight, how I couldn't get into the Room the past few days, so decided to try late at night, and how O'Malley said that I only could have gotten in while it was occupied if I was looking for the same thing the person inside was looking for. I told him about what happened, how he demanded information about the coin, and how things had gone from there.

Blake frowning slightly the whole time, staring absently into space, looking as if he was thinking furiously. Finally, he said, 'When you tried to get into this room before…you could not?'

'No, sir…the past few evenings, now.'

'Interesting,' murmured Blake. 'Maybe a little disturbing. You realize that means that whoever was in there not only knew how to use the room…but was doing something different than researching coins.'

I stared; he was right! How could I have missed that? 'Then…what _were_ they doing?'

'That is a very good question.'

Yeah, it was! Who were they and what were they doing? I'd only told Professor Miller…I wondered how many people he'd told. 'I think Forrester was looking for it too…but he didn't admit it,' I said.

'Strange,' said Blake, still talking more to himself than me. He seemed disturbed, which made me disturbed, too. Something weird _was_ going on… And I hoped it had ended with Professor O'Malley being caught tossing me round that classroom. 'And you have no idea what might make this coin special?'

I looked around a bit furtively before answering. 'The only thing I've seen so far is that it's not worn down. At all. It looks like it was just minted yesterday…it's never been used for currency. But still, a coin that old…the date's in the twelfth century…even if it was never used, it should be more worn than that.'

'Yes, I see,' said Blake, turning his gaze on me. 'By time if nothing else.'

'Yes sir.'

'Well…I think I would like a look at this coin…but tomorrow. For now, rest. I shall inform your friends that you are here if they wish to visit you…perhaps with your permission I shall move your coin somewhere rather safer than your bedside table?'

A nasty chill went through me…the thing _was_ just sitting there where anyone could grab it. Not that I thought any Gryffindors would, but I didn't know if teachers could get in. And with a few exceptions, I was highly distrustful of the staff at the moment. 'Good idea, professor. Where will you put it?'

'For now,' said Blake quietly, 'in my office, locked in my desk. Tomorrow we'll talk, you and I…maybe we can shed some light on the subject, hmm?'

The idea of maybe getting some of this bizarre mystery solved was a very attractive one. 'Can my mates join us?'

Blake didn't answer right away…he only peered at me, that strange, frowning look of thoughtfulness on his face. Finally he said, 'We'll see…I can't see why not. But for now, master Weasley…get some sleep. Or Mr Jacey's going to have my head.' He winked, and I actually laughed. I couldn't argue, either; I was exhausted.

'Night, sir.'

'Night.' I watched him leave, then turned over in the bed to lie on my side. I closed my eyes, and that was all I knew that night.

--

When next I woke, I was not too disoriented; as I said, I was rather accustomed to waking up from time to time in a hospital bed. But when I remembered what had landed me here, I sat bolt upright as if zapped by an electrical wire, looking wildly around as if expecting to see Professor O'Malley looming nearby. Had the events of last night really happened? It seemed so impossible.

'Whoa, easy, mate!'

I blinked, only just realizing that Ke'koa was sitting in a chair next to my bed, looking a bit surprised. I frowned, rubbing my eyes, and smoothing my hair back from my face. 'Oh wow.'

Ke'koa did not smile, only nodded grimly. 'Yeah…you had a hell of a night. Blake didn't tell us everything, just that you had a run-in with O'Malley…what the hell happened last night?' I opened my mouth to answer, but Ke'koa added, 'Oh…and he told me that he's got your coin safe…the same one you've been trying to research?'

I couldn't say anything, not for several minutes. Instead, I laughed, completely surprising both Ke'koa and myself, but I couldn't help it. This whole school year had been pretty insane, but last night just had to take the whole bloody cake! Ke'koa looked a little worried about me, so I tried valiantly to stem the hysterical laughter, managing to calm myself after a minute or two.

When I could talk again, I said, 'I don't wanna tell it a load of times…where're the others?'

'Down at lunch,' said Ke'koa, still looking a little worried. 'I can go get them though, if you want.'

Lunch? Just how long had I been asleep? 'Yeah…er, you didn't skip lunch on my account, did you?'

Ke'koa shrugged a little, nodding finally. 'Yeah…didn't have breakfast, either. I didn't think I could eat without throwing up. I was…well, I was worried I guess. When Blake told us you'd been attacked….'

Ke'koa could be obnoxious as hell, and sometimes didn't know when to stop teasing, but he was the best friend I could possibly have. Touched by his concern, I leaned over and hugged him. He seemed a bit surprised, but hugged me back. 'I'm okay,' I said as I pulled back. 'Dunno what would've happened if Blake hadn't shown up, but I'm all right…go eat something, okay? I don't like you not having anything to eat.'

'Yeah,' said Ke'koa slowly, looking down at his stomach as if asking it what it thought. 'Yeah…I could use a bite. I'll bring the others up when I come, okay?'

'Sounds great.' I watched Ke'koa leave, kind of wishing I had some food, myself. I glanced over at Mr Jacey's office, then slipped out of bed. My legs shook slightly and I recognized the symptoms of overexertion; I got it in my arms sometimes after Quidditch practice. I had run like blazes last night. I walked slowly to Jacey's office and knocked on the door. I saw him through the window turn around, smile, and come to open the door.

'Good to see you awake.'

'Thanks,' I said. 'I just wondered if I could get something to eat. I'm starving.'

'Oh, yes, yes, I can arrange that. Has Mr Ilima left?'

'Yeah, he went to get some lunch.'

'Well then, sit back down and I'll get you a tray…and no more getting out of bed! Rest for the afternoon and you can eat supper in the Great Hall.'

I sighed, but trudged back to the bed…I was too tired to do otherwise anyway. 'All right, all right…no more walking around.' I hoped Mr Jacey was marking the day on his calendar; I didn't usually capitulate so easily. I didn't much like being still.

Once I was sufficiently still for Jacey's liking, he got a tray of food for me, setting it down over me on a little tray with short legs. I wasn't sure if he just Summoned the food or what. But it looked good. A fresh hero sandwich, a little pile of crisps, a pickle, and a little dish of roast potatoes. I thanked Mr Jacey and dug in; it tasted fantastic. I was hungrier than I realized.

I had only just finished when Ke'koa came back in, with Faolan, Arcturus, and peter behind him. They all looked a bit worried until they saw me, looking apparently unhurt and healthy. Faolan broke into a wide grin, Arcturus smiled, and a look of relief passed over Peter's face.

'It wasn't a big deal,' I said, hoping to ease their worry a bit. 'I mean I've been hurt worse than that in Quidditch.'

'Maybe,' said Peter, coming over to hug me. 'But we were still worried…being attacked by some teacher….'

'So what happened?' said Faolan, coming over to sit next to the bed.

And so, once again, I told the story, from beginning to end. Though I had to tell far less to my friends than to Professor Blake, since they already knew most of the stuff that happened before last night. When I was done, every one of them wore an almost identical expression: furious disbelief.

'I can't believe it!' exclaimed Faolan. 'I can't believe he—what a git!'

'But why?' said Ke'koa, shaking his head slowly. 'He didn't think he could get away with it did you? You don't…you don't think he was gonna kill you, do you? Once you told him what he wanted?'

The idea was a very unnerving one.

'Probably not,' said Peter quietly. 'More likely is that he was gonna wipe the memory of the encounter…he would've had to do that anyway. He would've had to; you saw him in there, he couldn't risk you telling someone.'

I began to shiver; I couldn't help it. I didn't know what it felt like to have a memory wiped out of my very mind, but I didn't like it. What he'd done was bad enough. 'He did a weird thing…he made…memories come up in my head. The incantation was….' I screwed up my face in concentration, but I couldn't recall the word that he'd used.

Peter's frown deepened. 'There's a spell that'll let you read the other person's mind…I dunno the spell, but…that's really invasive!'

I wondered if he was able to see anything else, anything I didn't see. 'Did they take him to prison?'

I didn't like how they all looked at one another at all; they obviously knew something I didn't. 'Guess you didn't get a chance to hear,' said Ke'koa. 'O'Malley escaped.'

It was probably a good thing I wasn't eating or drinking still—I nearly choked as it was. 'He _what_?'

'Yeah,' said Ke'koa, scowling in a wrathful sort of way. 'The bastard escaped. Blake said when he went back to where he'd left Miller and O'Malley, he found Miller lying unconscious on the floor, his head bleeding. Blake reckons O'Malley got Professor Miller's wand somehow and used it against him. Miller was pretty miserable about the whole thing. He wasn't even at breakfast or lunch today.'

I didn't like that!I didn't like the idea of the git who'd attacked me was running around. What if he came after me again? I scowled, clenching my fists. 'Oh yeah?' I said. 'Well he'd just better stay the hell away from me…that's all I have to say! I need to learn some more curses from that duelling book of yours, Arcturus.' The more I thought about it, the more I hoped he _did_ show up at my house someday. I'd pound him into the ground.

'Maybe we all should,' said Faolan, looking excited. 'That way if something like this ever happens again, we'll be ready.'

I liked that idea! The others obviously liked it, too. 'We'll do that,' said Arcturus. 'And we'll find out about that coin, Calen. It's obviously something important…or O'Malley _thought_ it was.'

Yeah…or else he _thought_ it was. But I had the funny feeling he was right. 'I wonder,' I said slowly, 'just why he wanted that coin. You think it was just him…or was he working for someone? Remember that bloke who came round my house during the Easter holidays?'

Faolan's eyes got very big. 'Oh, yeah!' he said excitedly. 'I can't believe I forgot him…you don't think it could've been O'Malley in disguise, do you?'

'Maybe,' said Peter, answering for me. 'But it couldn't have been him that broken into Calen's house. He was here at Hogwarts. I bet they _do_ answer to someone…we've _got_ to find out about this coin.'

I looked at all my friends in turn, then down at my empty lunch tray. 'There's a big library in Hogsmeade, isn't there?' I asked. 'I'll ask Mum and Dad to take me there sometime…see if I can't find out. See what you guys can find out, too, during the holidays. The more we learn about it, the better.'

'Brilliant,' said Faolan, looking eager. 'This'll be great. If any of us finds anything or anything happens, we'll owl the others and tell them.'

'It's too bad we only have the two mirrors,' said Arcturus. 'And you know…you said that witch ancestor of yours was a Dark witch…I wonder if my family would know about this coin.'

'If you ask,' warned Peter, 'be careful.'

Arcturus winced a bit, then nodded. 'Yeah…I will. I think I'll start with my aunt. She's a crazy old hag, but she likes me for some reason.' I snorted, and Arcturus grinned a little. 'Yeah, I know. Her way of showing affection is pretty twisted. But she'd be willing to tell me most anything I wanted to know, if I asked her. Especially if it was about magic.'

'Cool,' I said, beginning to feel a bit excited, myself. 'We have a plan.'

After that, the talk turned to less dire things. The guys stayed around all afternoon and evening, which I appreciated, only leaving once in a while to have a walk or use the bathroom. Sekhmet Stark came and hung out for a while, and we told her about the Room of Requirement. (She was thrilled.) Aldora and the other Quidditch players came to visit for a bit after supper, which was cool, too, but we must have been a bit too noisy with all those people, because Mr Jacey came out of the office on the warpath. The team left after that.

As promised, as I'd stayed in bed (with great difficulty…tired or not I was going crazy lying and sitting down all day), Jacey let me go down to the feast. It was the Leaving Feast, after all, and I didn't want to miss it.

As the five of us made our way down to the Great Hall, I was stopped several times by people wanting to know what had happened. At first it caught me by surprise, wondering how they'd known about it at all, but then it was Hogwarts. Secrets weren't always so easy to keep there. I ended up telling those who'd asked that the Muggle Studies had gone mad and attacked me. It was close enough to the truth, anyway.

At the Leaving Feast, Professor Miller stood up and spoke to us all, as he usually did, as we ate the delicious food. He had a bandage on his head, making me think that whatever O'Malley had hit him with, it was magical, and not easily healed. To my surprise, he did not tell anyone about what had happened between O'Malley and me; he only said that we would have a new Muggle Studies teacher next year.

'You think?' said Arcturus with a snort.

'I wonder where O'Malley ended up,' I said.

'Who knows?'

'Who cares?" Ke'koa put in.

'And so, to those seventh-years, I say good-bye,' said Miller. 'And wish you the best of luck on the road of life. And to everyone else…until we meet again.'

I always hated the Closing Feast speech…even when boring old Professor Ryan had said it. It always made me want to cry. And it always _did_ Make Faolan cry…he was crying this time, too. Even when he didn't even know any of the seventh-years to say good-bye to. I didn't blame him; I hated goodbyes, too. I didn't know what I'd do when it was time to leave Hogwarts.

Peter slung an arm around Faolan as I attacked my dessert within enough fervour to distract myself from my melancholy.

'You are such a pig,' said Ke'koa as I crammed my mouth full.

I nearly spit out my food…if I remembered right, we'd had a similar conversation at the Opening Feast…some things just were destined to repeat over and over. I swallowed and said, 'Don't make me ask Faolan what he thinks the Spotted Dick looks like…' I liked the dessert just fine, but it was all dark and speckled and didn't look appetizing.

Ke'koa made a face and held up a hand. 'Sorry…I take it back.' He looked sideways at Faolan, who had a somewhat evil grin surfacing beneath the tears.

Despite the events of the night previous, the school year ended on a pretty good note. We all hung out outside until curfew, enjoying the fairly warm evening, then said good-bye for the night to Arcturus, who went and joined the Slytherins in the dungeons. The rest of us went upstairs and Arcturus joined us in talking half the night via the mirrors.

The next morning, those of us who needed to pack got up early enough to do so (Peter and Arcturus had already packed theirs the night before), and we headed down to breakfast…the last one of the year. Professor Blake pulled me aside out of the earshot of everyone else and gave my coin back. He said he'd done a few tests on it and only was able to find that it was under a magical effect…and that he'd be researching it, too. I thanked him. Surely if anyone could figure it out, Professor Blake could!

And then, all too soon we were headed back to Hogsmeade Station to board the trains.

The train ride was as long as ever, even with Exploding Snap and the duelling practise we tried rather unsuccessfully to get on within our little compartment. When I shattered the glass door with a badly-aimed spell, Peter declared the practise session over, and I didn't argue. Ke'koa repaired the door and I sat down, trying not to let my face get too red.

The five of us said good-bye at the station, reminding one another of our projects for the summer (aside from the summer homework we had…summer homework, what a stupid idea), then went to meet our families. I saw that all of Peter's siblings had come to meet him along with his parents; with my family there, also, the platform was full of ginger hair.

All my siblings were there, too, and I greeted them happily enough. I could save my stories for home…for now I was just glad to see them. I didn't know it then, but that summer was the calm before a very long storm. Things were just beginning, and we were all in for a rough ride.


End file.
